Like No One Ever Was
by When the Sun Rises
Summary: Everyone has asked why Ash never ages. The answer is simple. Ash is a robot, and robots don't age. Rated T for blood and violence
1. Prologue

Who was Ash's father, and why wasn't he around his family? Why were Brock and Misty willing to step down from their gym duties to travel with a boy they just met? Why did Giovanni disband Team Rocket so easily, and why did he disappear? Answer these questions and more in this short narrative, in which the tale of our favorite pokémon master is expanded, with a twist.

We'll all know how the story begins after the prologue, but only I know how it ends. If you guys like the story, and I'm confident you will, I kindly ask you to support me through more than the number of views. In other words, reviews. I'm not saying this to pressure anybody to do things they don't want to do; I just decide how prioritized my stories will be (meaning how often stories are updated and revised) through the abundance of their reviews. I'm more than happy to write this story, for I do believe it has potential. If nobody shares in my delight, however, it will be taken down so the more popular stories will be more attended to. I repeat, this is NOT take a threat or plead for more reviews, but a simple FYI for those who will be upset if the story is shut down without a considerate note.

Thank you for selecting my story! I hope you enjoy what you're about to read.

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Delia screamed at the top of her lungs as the doctor told her to push. Her arms kept her body up before they collapsed at the weight of her pain. Nurses left and right wiped sweat from Delia's forehead. Delia writhed in agony before letting out another scream.

"Push, Miss Delia!" the doctor encouraged. "It's almost out!"

"Hang in there, Delia!" Giovanni gripped her hand. "Look at me, honey. Breathe, _breathe_!"

Delia let out another blood-curling scream before collapsing on the mattress. The doctor carried away the new-born child, but something was wrong. Giovanni looked up from his wife, who had fainted from labor, and turned to the people surrounding his offspring.

"What?" he called out. "What is it? What's wrong?"

The doctor and nurses looked at each other. They were wearing masks over their faces, so Giovanni didn't see their worried expressions.

"We have to run some tests, Mr. Ketchum," The doctor told him.

"C...C-Can I..."

Everyone turned to Delia, who was waking up from her stupor.

"Can I hold...my child?" Delia asked.

"In a moment, Mrs. Ketchum," the doctor handed the baby to a nurse. "In the meantime, you will be moved to your own private room. Our nurses will be close by if you need assistance."

"Wait, hold on," Giovanni stepped forward. "Why do you need to run tests? What's wrong with our child?"

Delia's eyes immediately widened, but because the woman was too tired, she didn't do anything else.

"Babies usually cry when they are born," the doctor told them. "Your baby, on the other hand," he gestured to the bundle in the nurse's arms, "was born silent."

Giovanni and Delia stiffened.

"But don't be alarmed Mr. and Mrs. Ketchum," the doctor assured. "This could be nothing. Your baby is breathing, so I assure you he's alive. We just need to run some tests to make sure he's healthy."

"W-Wait," Delia called out wearily, "i-is...our child a...a boy?"

"Yes," the doctor nodded, grinning faintly under his mask. "Yes, Mrs. Ketchum. You and Mr. Ketchum have a baby boy."

Delia quivered in joy before passing out again. Giovanni would've beamed himself, but the doctor's words haunted him. Even when he and his wife were moved to their private room, and his wife was sleeping on a more comfortable bed, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The nurses tried to console him, but their words were empty and vague. They were not qualified to give him a diagnosis, after all. Unless the doctor himself told him his son was healthy, Giovanni had a lot to worry about.

And he was right to worry, because when the doctor came to their room, he came with bad news. Giovanni didn't register the name of the disease, but he remembered the sentence that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

"Your son has about ten years to live."

* * *

"Honey," Delia called out. She was wide awake now, sitting up on her hospital bed. She cradled her baby, who was sleeping in her arms. "Honey, please talk to me."

The man sitting on the chair beside her bed finally looked up. The expression on his face made Delia cringe.

"Our son is _dying_ , Delia," Giovanni reminded her. "Aren't you upset?"

"I'm still a bit too weary to feel anything," Delia admitted, "but I am sad."

"This wasn't supposed to happen," Giovanni shook his head. "I was going to do many things with him. Teach him how to hunt, to drive, to fend for himself."

"You can still do that, Giovanni," Delia told him.

" _How_?" Giovanni asked. "The boy's disease is going to confine him inside the house. He might as well be bedridden because one misstep, and he's dead!"

"Honey!"

"But am I wrong?" Giovanni demanded. "Our son is a ticking time bomb! How can he do anything if _everything_ will kill him? I can't even let my pokémon near him without sending him to an early grave!"

"We'll make the _best_ of it, dear," Delia urged. "Being born healthy doesn't always guarantee a long life. You know how reckless kids can be."

"But being born healthy would've given our son a chance to live at _all_ ," Giovanni remarked. "But our boy doesn't have a chance; he has a death sentence!"

He suddenly stood up, alerting Delia to look at him.

"Gio?"

"I need to leave for a while," Giovanni told her. "I need to find a way to fix this."

"Fix what? The disease?" Delia asked. "But the doctor said there's no cure."

"Then I'll find a cure, damn it!" Giovanni remarked. "I'll be damned if I just sit here and watch my son die!"

Delia's widened.

"But...where will you go?"

"I don't know yet," Giovanni answered, "but I'll be gone for a while."

"Gio," Delia trembled, "I am _not_ going to raise our son on my own!"

"And you _won't_ ," Giovanni told her. "I'll send money while I'm gone, even more if you need it. We'll call or email each other so we don't lose contact."

"But why do you have to go at all?" Delia asked. "Why can't we search for answers here? _Together_?"

"Because I don't want you to get hurt!" Giovanni snapped.

Delia widened her eyes.

"Wait," she said. "You're not..."

Giovanni stiffly turned away.

"Damn it, Gio!" Delia spat. "You promised me you were done with that life! You _promised_!"

"I know, Delia, bu-"

"You swore you _changed_ , Giovanni!"

"And I HAVE!"

A cry suddenly broke through the air. The couple looked down to see that the baby had started crying.

"Oh honey," Delia rocked the baby. "It's okay. Shhh, shhh. Mommy's here."

Giovanni only stared at the infant and grimaced. The baby was in distress, but his cry wasn't loud enough.

"Delia."

Delia looked up at him.

"I want us to be a family," Giovanni told her. "We can't be a family if our son is this weak."

"You can make him strong, Giovanni," Delia told him. "That's what fathers are for. No boy should _ever_ grow up without his father."

"No son should die before his father either," Giovanni closed his eyes. "You can try to comfort me all you want, Delia, but it isn't going to save our son."

"But you've gone so far!" Delia insisted. Her voice started cracking at that point. " _We've_ gone so far."

"And we're still going," Giovanni told her. He took his wife by the shoulders, careful not to block the baby. "Remember when I was in the darkest point of my life, but you were the only one that still believed in me?"

Delia stiffly nodded.

"I need you to believe in me again, Delia," Giovanni pleaded. "For us, for our son, for our _family_."

Delia looked down. Her baby was still crying, and she rocked him again to soothe him.

"Just don't do anything wreckless, Giovanni," Delia looked back to him. "When I tell our son about his father, I want him to be proud."

Giovanni leaned in and kissed Delia on the temple.

"I won't," he vowed, "for you and..."

He leaned down to the kiss the baby's head.

"For our child."

The baby immediately stopped crying. A smile stretched across his face, and his eyes lit up.

"Oh honey," Delia quivered, tears falling down her cheeks, "he loves you already."

Giovanni turned to the baby and finally smiled.

"I love him too," he said. "That why I'm going to make sure he grows up to a bright future."

"He's so beautiful..." Delia sighed, gaping at the baby's granite eyes.

Then she gasped.

"Honey!" she cried. "We haven't named our son yet!"

Giovanni blinked and turned to the child again. The baby responded by stretching his arms to him. The gesture was weak, but persistent.

Delia smiled and handed the child to his father. Giovanni was hesitant at first, but eventually accepted his son. The baby cooed at the sight of him. His arms continued to stretch until his fingers brushed his shirt.

"Ash," Giovanni said, finally looking into his son's eyes. "His name will be Ash."

Delia smiled. She gave Giovanni a supportive grip on the arm before stroking their baby's back.

"Ash," she said. "What a pretty name."


	2. Episode 01: Happy Birthday, Ash

_Ten years later._

Delia eyes her kitchen counter intently as she sanitizes it with a rag. She makes sure to wipe every speck of dust and stain she sees to make sure they will be gone for dinner. Ash never got food poisoning from her cooking before; that isn't going to change now.

Delia is about to wipe a corner until a knock on her front door stops her. She reluctantly puts her rag down and approaches it. She doesn't expect anyone to visit her today. Then she remembers the appointment she made the previous day, and her guess is confirmed when she opens the door. "Professor," she calls out, "you're early."

"Am I too early?" the man under the doorway responds. A bush of gray hair pops out when he removes his hat, which matches the color of his beige coat. The professor dresses in a maroon polo shirt, khaki pants, and brown dress shoes. It's quite a strange phenomenon to see that he isn't sweating considering it's the middle of a 90-degree summer day. Bearing that in mind, as well as the fact that the open door is inviting pollutants into her home, Delia hurriedly waves the man inside and closes the door.

"No, no, you're right on time," she runs to the foot of the stairs. "Ash!" she calls out. "Don't come out of your room; there's a visitor here!"

"Okay," a weak voice replies.

Delia turns back to her visitor and shoots him a quick grin. "Please," she says, gesturing to the plastic-covered couch in the middle of the living room, "make yourself at home."

The professor nods and sits on the furniture. He hears the white couch squeak as Delia sits on the one in front of him. He is about to speak, but the mother suddenly stands up and rushes to the kitchen. "Wait!" he hears her say. "Let me bring us some lemonade!"

"Oh, I'm fine, Miss—"

But the mother disappears behind the kitchen door before he can finish. He doesn't sit in his position for long when Delia returns with a tray consisting of two glasses and a pitcher of lemonade. He is about to offer assistance, but the tray is on the wooden coffee table before he can say a word. He raises an eyebrow as the mother sits on the couch again. She wears a pink blouse, a navy blue skirt, and yellow flats with her brown hair tied lowly with a teal hair band. The mother may look unkempt, but anxiety is evident on her face. He knows why, of course. It is why he's here.

"Thank you, Miss Ketchum," he acknowledges, pouring himself a glass of lemonade before Delia could insist. "You have a lovely home."

Delia relaxes but keeps her fingers wound on her lap. "Thank you."

"Were you just preparing dinner for your son?"

"Yes," Delia nods, "I'm cooking Ash's favorite food tonight."

"Oh?" the professor blinks. "What does he like?"

"Everything," Delia chuckles, looking down to hide her smile. "Despite his condition, Ash really likes to eat."

The professor simpers, placing his icy beverage on the table. He frowns, however, when he sees Delia trembling. "Is everything alright?" he asks.

Delia shakes her head. "It's just," she trembles, "it's his tenth birthday."

The professor nods. "Yes."

"I just don't want to lose him!" Delia suddenly cries, lifting her head to look at him. "I've already lost Giovanni; I can't…"

The man's jaw hardens as Delia's tremors escalate. He is sure that if he doesn't say something soon, she will collapse into a weeping mess. "Don't worry, Mrs. Ketchum," he says. "That's why I'm here to bring a solution."

Delia looks up. It feels as if he put a hand on her shoulder even though he doesn't actually touch her. She relaxes then and leans back, silently urging him to continue. The professor lifts his briefcase and sets it beside him. This surprises Delia. She didn't see the luggage when he arrived. Maybe she was too focused on keeping pollutants out she didn't notice, she guesses. She then believes it for it is the most logical explanation.

"What I have here will revolutionize the world of medicine, maybe technology and mankind itself," the professor tells her, "it has been tested on a number of pokémon and human subjects, but it has yet to be approved by the public. Ethical reasons have to be considered, after all, and not everybody is on board with the subject matter my invention is based on."

"And what subject matter is that?"

"Artificial intelligence—the idea of having technology perform tasks as we humans can."

Delia leans further back. She has heard of this concept before—it was why she had contacted him in the first place—but hearing him explain it to her himself is a different experience.

"But my invention, as you may know, doesn't rely on technology gaining its own consciousness," the professor continues. "That's where your son comes in. If your son can live through a machine, then you will never have to worry about him dying. If things go as planned, he may even outlive you."

"Th-That," Delia stammers, "that's what I always wanted. That's how it's supposed to be."

"But because technology doesn't age," the professor continues, "neither will your son. Sure he may never want to marry or have children, but, at least, he will always want to be your child."

"My Ash," Delia gasps, cupping her lips as she trembles, "I...it's okay. I don't mind taking care of him. He will always be my baby boy."

The professor smiles. The mother may still be trembling, but, at least, she no longer looks like she's going to break. He takes out a folder from his briefcase and hands it to her. Delia accepts it.

"These documents contain more information about the project," the professor tells her, "but if you have any questions you would like me to answer now, I can answer them for you."

"I-It's okay," Delia shakes her head, "I still need to think about the offer...wait, I do have one more question."

"Yes?"

"How much will participating in the project cost?" Delia asks. "Considering what you've mentioned, it must be expensive."

"Tell you what, Mrs. Ketchum," the professor leans back. He crosses his arms and shoots her a light grin, "if you and your son decide to participate in my project, you will pay no expense."

"No expense?" Delia quotes. "Why would there be no expense?"

"Because when my volunteers helped me test out my creation, there are flaws to the results I have collected," the professor answers. "The participants' consciousness were inputted into the machines for only a short period. I have no idea what the results would be if the study was long-term. That's where your son comes in."

Delia inches back. "Excuse me?"

"I mean no offense, Mrs. Ketchum," the professor quickly assures her. "What I'm trying to say i—"

"My son might die tonight," Delia hisses, "and you want to use him as a _guinea pig_?"

The professor gapes. "Miss—"

"Get out of my house," Delia orders, standing up from the couch and slamming the file onto the table. "I don't want to hear any more of this."

"Mrs. Ketchum, please," the professor stands up as well. "Your participation could benefit us both."

"More you than me!" Delia remarks. "Whether my son lives or dies doesn't matter to you. All you want is results!"

"These findings could save not only your son but many others who are in your situation!" the professor tells her. "I meant no offense, Mrs. Ketchum; I really didn't. I just wanted you to understand the gravity of this project, what your son can do to change the world."

"And what if it kills him?" Delia asks. "What if it doesn't work?"

"And what if it does, Mrs. Ketchum?" the professor remarks. "What if he _lives_?"

Delia sighs and looks down. She glances down at the folder she slammed on the table, her eyes glossy and wide. The professor sees this and tucks a hand in his coat pocket. "I may not know what it's like to lose a child, much less your only one," he says, "but if you allow me to help you," he hands her a white card with formal black text, "you won't have to either."

Delia flinches. She is still for a few moments, allowing an awkward minute of silence to pass. Then she extends two fingers and pinches the card between them. "I'll show you to the door," she whispers softly.

The professor frowns. This isn't the reaction he expected but allows himself to be guided to the door. He briefly wonders if the mother had declined his offer. His worries waver, however, when he sees hesitation in her eyes. "Thank you for your hospitality," he speaks. "If you do decide to call," the man continues, "my name is Samuel Oak."

Delis says nothing and only stands by the door expectantly. Oak holds back an exasperated sigh and walks away. Delia shuts the door at his exit and leans on the sanitized wood. His words echo in her head, rattling her already unsettled mind. She thought she knew what the right thing to do was, but now she can't be more conflicted. Any hope she held before the professor's visit is gone. The right thing, she sees now, is a lot less clear than she had expected.

She clenches her fists. She may not know what decision to choose, but she doesn't have to make one alone. Her son's fragile fate should be decided by _both_ of his parents. She is practically raising their child alone; her husband has to do more than provide funds from the distance to meet her halfway. Now that they may have a real chance to save their son, Giovanni should, at least, carry the same burden of choice she is carrying.

So Delia heads to the computer desktop set beside the kitchen. She switches the devices on and sits on the stool in front of them. As soon as the icon to video chat is available on the screen, Delia clicks on it and selects her husband's number.

She sighs in relief when her husband's face appears on the screen. She is always happy to see him after he left so many years ago even if he has aged more than he should over only ten years. His eyes are burdened with heavy eye bags, his forehead is streaked with many lines, and the corners of his mouth are sided with dry folds of skin. Delia cannot help but deepen her already present frown, especially since her husband looks just as distraught as she does. "Gio," she gasps, "what's wrong? Why do you look so grave?"

"I should ask you the same thing," Giovanni remarks.

Delia blinks. She then looks down and entwines her fingers on her lap. She is used to her husband's brash behavior but today, he seems graver than before. She decides to brush it off. Giovanni is secretive with everything he does. He never answers her questions; why will he now? "I'm just...conflicted," she confesses, "conflicted on a matter that...I need your input on."

Giovanni leans forward, his forehead forming more wrinkles as he does so. "What's wrong?"

"Well, as you know," Delia starts, "it's Ash's tenth birthday today."

Giovanni's jaws harden. "Yes."

"And we both know what might happen to him…" Delia pauses. She then bites her lip and stares at her computer's keyboard.

"I'm working on a solution," Giovanni tells her. "I'm on to something that could save him. Can you admit him to the hospital for the meantime? It could give me more time."

"I," Delia gulps, "I can do that."

"Okay," Giovanni nods. He does so stiffly and swallows an anxious breath.

"Gio…"

Giovanni looks at his wife.

"In case we don't succeed," Delia tells him, "in case our son leaves us…"

Giovanni widens his eyes.

"Can you please come home?" Delia pleads. "Be here with your wife and son. If possible, talk to Ash. If he does...go...tonight, he will, at least, have the chance to meet his father."

Giovanni almost drops his phone. "Delia!"

" _Please_ , Giovanni," his wife insists, "saving him is the reason you left in the first place. He lived his whole life never knowing who you are. If you don't come back today, he will die as curious as he was alive."

"Don't say that, Delia!" Giovanni hisses. "I said I will find a solution; have you lost faith in me?"

"I'm just trying to give what is best for our son," Delia tells him. "If you're not willing to come back today, can you, at least, talk to him on the phone? I can bring him down here right now so you two can—"

"Delia, I've told you this many times," Giovanni growls. "Ash isn't to see me unless I have guaranteed him a long life he can live. I'm not going to have him face me after all these years so that he can see a failure."

"But, at least, he can see you at all!" Delia remarks. "Why are you making this so difficult, Giovanni? Why are you trying so hard to push us away?"

"I have to go," Giovanni abruptly says. "Goodbye."

Delia widens her eyes. "Wait!" she gasps. "Gi—"

But the call ends before she can finish. She cups her mouth then and hits the wooden counter with a fist. Even on the very day their son may die, Giovanni still finds ways to avoid them. Why won't he come home, she asks herself. Does he really do it to save Ash, or is this his passive way to get them out of his life?

Delia coughs a choked breath and releases tears. She doesn't have time to wipe them away when a thump is heard from upstairs. "Ash?" she calls out. "Ash, is everything okay up there?" She waits for a response but receives none. Panic escalates in her system, but she holds it back before calling out again. Silence.

She dashes up the stairs and into her son's room. All color drains from her face when she opens the door. Ash is sprawled on the ground; his back arched awkwardly to meet her. "Ash!" Delia screams, running up to scoop him into her arms. When she turns his head to face her, his eyes are closed. "Ash," she shakes him. "Ash, honey, wake up. Please wake up!"

When he doesn't do so, Delia screams and pulls him to her chest. She then searches her son's room for a phone but finds none. She has no choice but to go back downstairs and grab the phone from the kitchen. Delia groans and then slowly, very slowly, places her son on his bed. She dashes downstairs, barely recovering when she trips, and snatches the phone next to the microwave. She dials certain numbers into the wireless landline and waits anxiously for an answer.

"Pallet Police Department," the person on the other end responses, "what is your emergency?"

"Please help my son!" Delia screams, tears cascading down her face. "He's dying!"

~.~

"Gio?"

Giovanni grunts as muscled arms encircle his neck. He tries to pull away but his captor grips him tight. "I told you not to enter my office without knocking, Ariana," he scolds. "Should I lock my door next time?"

"Oh don't be bitter, dear," Ariana coos, leaning closer so he can see her piercing red hair and eyes. "I only came because I know you'd be brooding more than usual. Particularly every year on this day. Are you still not going to tell me why?"

Giovanni grunts again and sharply turns away. "I don't need to explain anything to you."

"Hmm, you're right," Ariana finally releases him, "you don't. Everyone has the right to keep their secrets. You have yours, and I have mine."

Giovanni glares at her but she brushes off his leer with a smirk. She then strokes his shoulder with her left hand while lifting her right hand to her abdomen. "But let's be truthful for a moment," she invites. "I would like to ask you a question."

Giovanni's eyes narrow. "What?"

"He's going to be a boy, Giovanni," Ariana rubs her swollen womb. "What would you like to name our son?"

~.~

Delia grimaces as a machine pumps and absorbs air into her only child's body. The air she breathes is practically poison to him now, so as he lays on a hospital bed with IVs connected to his hands, Delia only counts seconds until his heart monitor flatlines. Your son may not survive tonight, the doctors have told her. His immune system has done the best it could, and so has she.

No, Delia shakes her head. No, she has not. She may stand in a cold room with her son weakly clinging to his life, but hope has not been entirely lost. With or without Giovanni, she will save her son. Ash will not die on his tenth birthday. He will live to celebrate his eleventh, twelfth, and so forth.

She turns around when the door bursts open behind her. Running into the room is Professor Oak and a younger man with chocolate brown hair and narrow black eyes. Oak carries a heavy black suitcase with two arms while the boy tugs a cart carrying a white rectangular prism. Both are dressed in formal lab attire, but their clothing is ruffled and damp from sprinting in the summer heat. Delia cannot care less about their appearances, however. She only focuses on what they are carrying into the room.

"Are these the items?" she asks.

Oak runs to Ash's right side. "Yes," he answers, "but we have no time to speak. Please allow us the space to work, Mrs. Ketchum. We'll make sure your son lives tonight."

Delia stiffly nods and steps back so the young man can bring his wagon to the professor. As Oak unpacks his briefcase, Delia watches him reveal many items she cannot describe. She does, however, recognize the hair trimmers and razors. "Wait a minute," she clutches the professor's arm with a hand. "What are you doing?"

"I need to shave his head," Oak answers.

"Why?"

"For our project to work, we need to get directly into certain parts of his brain," Oak tells her. Delia's eyes widen then, so he adds, "we are trying to save your son, Mrs. Ketchum. If you want us to have a chance, you have to trust us."

Delia grunts and shoots him a glare. Then slowly, very slowly, she releases his arm and steps back.

"Excuse me, ma'am."

Delia gasps and steps back even further. The young man she saw earlier keeps his head low as he runs to the professor's side. After a few minutes, Oak gives him a command before handing him a razor and bottle.

Delia cringes when the younger man starts shaving her son's head. The man seems a bit too young for her liking, so she holds her tongue with the greatest struggle as the professor turns to unpack a slim black case. What she sees next horrifies her. Inside the case are several long, thick needles. "Oh no," she gasps, shaking her head as she turns away again. "No, no, no, no, _no_." When the professor told her that he was going to go directly into her son's brain, she didn't think he was literally going to...

"You can wait outside if you'd like," Oak offers.

"No!" Delia yelps without looking at him. "I'm staying!"

The professor doesn't respond. Delia leans her head to listen for one and then regrets it when she hears a faint squelching noise. And another, then another…

"Oh no," Delia groans, holding back a wave of vomit as the sound of narrow rods piercing through flesh continue to resound through the room. She bends forward, her eyes squeezing shut, until she is gently guided to the door. When Delia looks up, she sees the young man that was assisting the professor.

"Don't worry, ma'am," he assures, "I'll wait outside with you."

To the assistant's relief, Delia doesn't resist. The opposite actually happens. Before the assistant reaches the door with her, Delia beats him there by running outside. He turns to Oak, who gives him an affirmative nod, and then follows the mother to the hall. Delia is already sitting on a bench in front of the door when he sees her again. Her head is down with her face between her palms. "I wouldn't worry too much, ma'am," he assures as he sits beside her. "Professor Oak has done this many times. Your son is in good hands."

Delia lifts her head and looks at him. His thin eyes glint at her, his young countenance waiting for her to smile. "Who are you?" Delia asks.

"My name is Flint, ma'am," the assistant answers. "I am Professor Oak's assistant."

"Aren't you a bit too young to be his assistant?" Delia narrows her eyes. She doesn't care whether her question offends him or not. Not anymore. He looks like he's twenty-five years old at the most, and he just helped the professor stick needles into her son's brain.

Flint blinks. He doesn't seem to be offended. Instead, he scratches his head and gives her a sly smile. "I have a family to support," he tells her. "A wife and four kids."

Delia widens her eyes. "Four kids? But you are so young!" she says. "Don't you have dreams to pursue?"

"Well," Flint tilts his head, "I do..."

"As did I when I had my son," Delia sighs. "How old were you when you had your first one?"

"Twenty."

Ah, Delia nods. Her guess was correct. "I was seventeen," she tells him, eliciting a shocked reaction that made the assistant's thin eyes widen, "and just like you, I didn't really think about what it meant to have a child. All I thought about was how great it would be to live happily ever after with the man I love."

Flint's expression sombers. "Where is the man?"

"Somewhere far away," Delia remarks dryly, "far from his dying child and grieving wife."

Flint frowns, "I'm sorry."

Delia says nothing. She doesn't know why she is revealing such personal information to someone she just met but doesn't regret it. Perhaps she feels that she can impart wisdom to someone that might make the same mistake she did. She is too late, though, that is obvious enough. What if imparting wisdom has nothing to do with it? What if she just wants to express her frustration? After all, the assistant is offering a listening ear. That's more than her husband has given her in years.

With that, she spends the rest of their time together telling him many things. She was an overly-sheltered high school student when she met Giovanni. Giovanni was a gang member that had done many terrible things, yet she found herself tangled with him and his crimes. Everyone—her parents, her friends, her teachers, and even people she didn't know—told her to leave him but she never listened. Being with Giovanni gave her a sense of freedom and adventure she had never experienced before. When she bore his child, she thought it would be the ticket for a great new journey. Life is cruel, she tells Flint, for every second she and Giovanni spent on raising their child, the further freedom and adventure seemed to get from her. When Giovanni left, they were officially gone. She doesn't notice how Flint's expression changes throughout their conversation. She doesn't realize how much her bitterness influences his mind.

Their conversation doesn't stop until frantic beeps could be heard from the room. The mother and assistant rush inside then to find an entirely different scene. The large box Flint brought in is open to reveal a large gray marionette-like figure. The figure has a thin cord attached to its back that extends to connect with a black laptop placed at the foot of Ash's bed. The laptop seems to act as a mediator, for the needles piercing into Ash's brain has wires connected at the ends merging into one slightly thicker cord that connects to the computer. The screen of the laptop has a wide bar with several diagonal lines running from left to right. The words "Installing" are written in bold letters above it, but what got Delia's attention the most is her son's heart monitor, which neon green line is flattened.

Delia gasps and falls to her knees. She cups her mouth with both hands as tears well up in her eyes. Flint is immediately at her side and places a hand on her shoulder. "Professor," he calls out, "was the transfer successful?"

"It should be," Oak narrows his eyes at the laptop screen, "the boy's body may have given out, but his consciousness should have been downloaded into the computer beforehand. I sped up the downloading process back at the lab in case something like this happened."

"Wh-What," Delia looks at him, "what's going to happen now?"

Oak gives her a sly smile and walks until he is kneeling in front of her. "Now we wait," he says. "Your son might live, Mrs. Ketchum. It might take a few hours but have a little faith till then. The rewards might last you for a lifetime."

Delia trembles and drops her hands. She looks at her son's body, which the nurses have approached to shut off his heart monitor. The staff doesn't seem fazed by the situation in the room, which makes her wonder how often Oak performs his experiments in their hospital. She looks at her son, then the professor, then back to her son. She then looks at the marionette-like figure towering Ash's bed and watches its several star-like lights blink from several parts of its body. If the professor's experiment works, then the light-up android will be her son's new body. Will she be able to see her son live the rest of his life in it? Then again, can she live her own life without her son alive at all?

Delia takes in a slow, shaky breath. She allows Flint to help her stand and accepts Oak's comforting hand. She cannot find the words to describe her overwhelming emotions, so she nods rigidly to indicate her compliance. Oak and Flint smile and give each other an affirmative nod before turning back to the computer screen.

~.~

Ariana grips the bars on the side of her hospital bed and roars another groan in pain. A doctor is at the foot of her bed pulling something from between her legs while telling her to push. About four nurses surround her. Giovanni stands behind them with his eyes narrowed and his fists clenched. Today isn't supposed to be happening, he thinks. Why is it that on the day his real son may be dying, one that isn't supposed to exist is coming to life? It is like fate is taking away his child to replace him with one he never asked for. It isn't fair.

When the baby emerges from Ariana, the infant let out a loud, healthy shriek that Giovanni spent ten years trying to get out of Ash. His skin is light and fair with red hair jutting from his head. He taunts Giovanni without even trying, torments him by offering the life he had always wanted with Ash but can only have with him—a child only born from drunken intimacy performed on a cold, hazy night. Giovanni doesn't care how healthy the boy is, even after he feels the baby grips his shirt when the nurses cleaned and handed him to him. The boy will never be as good as Ash; and Ash, Giovanni swears to himself, will live to be a healthy man. He will aspire to that goal even more so from this day forward.

"Mr. Ketchum," one of the nurses approaches him with a clipboard, "what would you like to name your son?"

Giovanni frowns. He had already decided he doesn't care about the boy; what made the idiot nurse believe that he would like to name him? Unfortunately, Ariana is passed out on the hospital bed so he cannot dump the pest on her. He turns to the another nurse, one that doesn't have anything in his hands, and shoves the baby to him. Both the receiving nurse and the nurse that spoke to him gape in surprise, but he doesn't give them time to comment when he looks the clipboard-bearing one in the eye.

"Silver," he mutters. "Ariana can change it if she wants, but if she asks, I say it's Silver."

The nurse blinks. "O-Oka—"

She is interrupted when he walks out of the room and slams the door behind him.

~.~

"Download complete."

Oak, Flint, and Delia look up from Ash's corpse to turn to the laptop screen. They quickly approach the computer before Oak types on the keyboard.

"What happens now?" Delia asks.

"Now," Oak clicks on something with the touchpad and turns to the android, "we watch."

The lights of the marionette-like figure blink rapidly until finally stilling with stable light. Delia doesn't know that the form has eyelids until they rise. She doesn't know that the mouth can move until it opens. The dots that were hiding behind the android's eyelids search the room until they land on her. When a robotic voice spoke through the lips, Delia falls to her knees and cries.

"Mom?"


	3. Episode 02: To See the World

Hello, everyone! I apologize for the late update. For those who don't regularly check my profile, I've constantly been postponing the episode due to my hectic schedule. But today I finally have it. Thank you for your patience. Enjoy!

* * *

Oak takes another chug of coffee before typing a line of code into his computer. After confirming the code into the system, the "eyes" of the marionette standing at the podium in front of him flash.

"What just happened?" Delia asks, turning to him with wide eyes.

"Again, Mrs. Ketchum, you have nothing to worry about," Oak assures to the mother sitting on the couch behind him. "I'll tell you about the modifications once I'm finished."

Delia takes a deep breath, lays back, and tries to relax. This is the umpteenth time she has interrupted the professor in his work yet cannot find the will to stop asking. It has been two days since her son's consciousness has been transferred into a robot, and she is barely hanging on to the belief that the light-up moving piece of metal is now her baby boy. She almost believes that maybe the professor has deceived her, and that she is talking to a machine that is programmed to tell her what she wants to hear. She was stood corrected yesterday when she asked him questions the professor couldn't have known, and was surprised when the robot answered with precise accurateness. His favorite dish, the weird-smelling liquid she uses to clean the kitchen counter—he remembered everything. Everything, Delia bitterly thinks, like his father.

"Alright."

Delia looks up to see Oak approaching him with his coffee and papers.

"I've upgraded both the software and hardware of the android to make it more lifelike," Oak reads the first page. "For example, now when your son moves, he will move more like a human and less like a stiff robot. Once the materials I've ordered arrive, he will look and feel like a human too. The human, of course, that looks like your son."

Delia nods attentively as Oak continues to explain his progress. She asks questions from time to time, he answers, and Flint stops by once every hour to update Oak about his own task on the project.

"I've started modifying your son's memories as you requested," Flint tells Delia in one of his visits. "Would you like to discuss it now?"

Delia briefly turns to Oak. "How about after our conversation?" she gestures to herself and the professor for emphasis.

"Alright," Flint nods before leaving the room.

"You've had your son's memories modified?" Oak asks when his assistant departs.

Delia shifts in her seat. "Let's just say there are certain things I would like him to forget."

Oak eyes the door of his office, wondering what has occurred between the adults to allow such intimacy, and then looks back at the mother.

"As I was saying, we have made a lot of progress these past few days but we have a long way to go," Oak continues. "For example, in regards to memory, it might take a while for your son to properly store new ones. How will he process information, how will he store it, will he have to forget a few things to accommodate new memories, etcetera, etcetera. And that's just one of the many things to think about. If we truly want him to be human-like, we first have to consider what it means to be a human. How he can feel emotions, how he can withstand environmental stressors, how he is going to be treated if he is to be injured—energy too! Even if we do manage to make him as human as possible, what will be his source of power? His current activities are very draining. He has to be plugged in here to keep him on."

Delia, who is barely comprehending the information being thrown at her, freezes when she absorbs the last bit of information.

"You mean," she leans forward, "Ash still has to remain indoors?"

"Yes."

"Oh my baby," Delia puts a hand on her chest. "He would be devastated."

"Technically, he won't," Oak states slowly. "He doesn't have the capacity to feel emotions. At least, not yet."

Delia doesn't feel better. She drums her knees with her fingers and wonders how she will tell her son. Then someone knocks on the door of Oak's office, and this time, the receptionist, Minerva, enters the room.

"Professor, a crowd of journalists in the lobby would like to speak with you," she informs.

"Great!" Oak cheers. "Tell them I'll be there soon."

Minerva nods affirmatively before closing the door.

"Journalists?" Delia sits at the edge of her seat. "Why are there journalists here?"

"The media is how we get our funding, Mrs. Ketchum," Oak tells her. "This is how we get investors to pay for our expenses. This is also how we can spread hope to other parents like you who are struggling to keep their children with them. If our project succeeds, we might start a new generation in which _no one_ loses their loved one again!"

Delia bites her lip. Though she understands what the professor is saying, she can't help but bow her head in hesitation.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Ketchum. If the reporters ask, I'll tell them you're currently unavailable," Oak assures as he stands from his seat. "In the meantime, why don't I guide you to Flint's office? I believe you two have a discussion regarding Ash's memories."

"Oh!" Delia cocks her head up and stands. "Yes, please."

~.~

Giovanni scowls when his call is denied for the umpteenth time. Why isn't his wife answering his calls? It's been two days since their son's tenth birthday. Even though their last encounter didn't end pleasantly, he at least deserves to know what has happened to his son.

"Oh, Gio!"

Giovanni grunts as Ariana sits beside him on the couch.

"Silver is finally awake," Ariana presents him their child. "Want to say hi to your daddy, Silver?"

The red-haired infant blinks curiously before staring up at Giovanni. His face immediately brightens, revealing toothless gums, and he stretches out to touch him. Giovanni cringes and gives no other response. Ariana frowns.

"Silver wants you to hold him, Gio," she tells him. "Don't you want to hold your son?"

"No," Giovanni remarks. "That's not my son; that's a mistake."

Ariana gasps. "Gio!"

"What happened between us was a mistake; you know that," Giovanni continued. "Why did you decide to keep it anyway? Do you think it will have a future in what is happening here?"

"We can make a future for _him_ ," Ariana remarks. "What happened months ago might not have been intentional, but what resulted from it was a gift! Don't you want a child to love, as well as someone to pass down your legacy?"

"I stated my thoughts firmly at the beginning," Giovanni reminds. "Did you think I would change my mind if the child was born?"

"Maybe," Ariana admits. "After all, you've been unhappy for so long. I thought what you needed was a bundle of joy."

Giovanni looks at Silver, who is watching his parents' exchange until his eyes meet his. The child squeaks and reaches out to his father once more but is once again denied.

"Well you thought wrong," Giovanni states. "My problems can't be solved by an accident."

Ariana gapes. "How can you be so cruel?" she demands. "Why can't you give Silver a chance? He has done nothing wrong to you!"

"He'll have a chance if he proves himself of use to me," Giovanni stands up. "Until that day comes, he's your problem."

Ariana scowls as Giovanni abandons her in his office. She then looks down when Silver starts crying.

"Oh, honey, shhh. Shhh," she hushes as she rocks the child from side to side. "Your father loves you, I promise. You just have to give him time to show it."

She rubs the baby tenderly on the arm before looking at the door Giovanni exited through. He _will_ love you, she repeats to herself. You just have to have faith.

~.~

Giovanni looks left and right before entering a passage hidden behind a grove of trees. The hideout guarantees him privacy from his associates, who are occupying their humble headquarters just a few meters away.

Giovanni makes sure to shut the automatic door before entering a small room filled with screens and gadgets. At the center of the room is an office desk holding an advanced desktop computer. He sits on the leather chair in front of it and turns on the system. He waits a while until his home screen appears and looks up the latest news regarding Pallet Town, Kanto. At the center of his browser's homepage, however, is something that piques his interest. There is a broad picture of a machine that looks to be an android. The headline of the peculiar picture reads "Ten Year Old Boy Evades Death with Technology."

Giovanni sits at the edge of his chair and clicks on the article.

 _Ten year old, Ash Ketchum, mother of Delia Ketchum, survived a terminal disease by having his consciousness transported into a robot. The project is lead by robotics engineer and professor, Dr. Samuel Oak. Though only tested on a selected number of subjects during a short time period, Dr. Oak is determined to make Ash's mechanical retreat his permanent home._

Giovanni's hands tremble as he watches the attached video depicting the professor and the robot that is supposed to be his son. The robot, which has gray metal skin and blinking glass eyes, makes Giovanni angry. Where is his consent in all of this? Did Delia bother to mention this to him before turning Ash into this...this monstrosity?

Giovanni stands, his chair wheeling backward, and takes his car keys out from his pocket.

~.~

When a knock is heard from the front door at 11 p.m., the last person Delia expects to see when she answers is her husband. Yet there he is, tall, brooding, and angry.

"Delia," he only says.

Delia is upset herself but is too shocked to see the man for the first time in ten years that she only stands with her eyes and mouth agape.

"We," Giovanni takes a breath, "need to talk."

The statement snaps Delia out of her daze. She puts on an indifferent expression before allowing him inside. Giovanni is blown away by the changes that have occurred in his old home. Windows are tightly shut, and furniture is covered in plastic. Many things, such as potted plants and decorative ornaments, are missing. What else is missing, he notes, are family portraits.

He sits on a covered couch as Delia sits on the one across him. The coffee table in the middle is small but casts a considerable distance between them.

"You turned our son into a robot," Giovanni states.

"You don't have a right to call him your son anymore," Delia growls. "You've made it perfectly clear that you don't want anything to do with him or me."

Giovanni's face falls. "I did no such thing."

"You abandoned us on the day Ash was supposed to die!" Delia snaps. "You pushed us away on the day we needed you the most!"

"Something happened that day!" Giovanni justifies. "It was out of my control!"

"What happened?"

"I...can't say."

"Wow," Delia nods, her voice laced in bitterness. "I just...I have no words for you."

"Then just listen," Giovanni leans forward. "I know you don't understand why I do what I do, but you have to understand that I do it for our family."

"Oh, shut up, Giovanni!" Delia snaps. "All you ever did was send money from the distance. You won't even tell me how you're getting that money in the first place! Are you even getting it legally?"

"Delia!" Giovanni's jaws tighten as he looks her in the eye, "I've told you I've _changed_!"

"Then prove it!" Delia matches his glare. "Stay here. With your wife, your son—your _family_!"

Giovanni steps back, his breathing becoming haggard. Delia narrows her eyes as she waits for his answer. When he doesn't give her one—at least, not the one she needs—she marches to the front door and yanks it open.

"Get out."

Giovanni turns and widens his eyes.

"Don't come back here again," Delia commands, "not until you decide to never leave us again."

It breaks her heart, but Giovanni leaves without a word. Delia hisses when she locks the door, tears welling up in her eyes, and storms back to her bedroom.

Outside the house, Giovanni marches back to his car with a scowl on his face. He doesn't see his wife for ten years, and when they finally reunite, she kicks him out. He didn't even get to discuss with her what he came to talk about. They only fight, just like they always have, and he leaves with nothing accomplished. She doesn't understand, he tells himself, and she probably never will. At least, not until he accomplishes what he had set out to achieve.

"I _will_ find a way to save Ash," Giovanni states, "and when I do, you will see that everything I do, I do for you and our son."

He drives away.

~.~

Much progress is made on Ash's development. Before anybody realizes it, five years pass. Many things change over these years. One of these changes includes Flint's employment. He catches everyone off guard, especially Delia, when he announces his resignation.

"There are many things I want to pursue," Flint tells Delia on his last day at Pallet. He visits her house before he leaves, his luggage already packed in his car. "I'm sorry I can't be here to stay. I hope you understand."

Delia does understand, but it doesn't keep her from getting upset. Flint has not only been assisting Oak in developing her son's robotic body, but also giving her the support and companionship her husband failed to provide. Then again, she can't say that she didn't see this coming. Flint has been expressing his dissatisfaction for years. He thinks that giving his wife extra "attention" will relieve this growing unhappiness; but it only bears more children than he desires, and the added responsibility not only strains his misery but his marriage as well. That is when he decided he needs to get away, to regain his purpose to live. Delia loses sympathy for him when he makes this decision final. It doesn't matter how he justifies his actions. He is abandoning his family, Oak, her—everything, just like Giovanni did.

Oak encounters changes as well. His daughter and son-in-law perish in a plane crash, leaving their son, Gary, orphaned and alone. Not wanting the boy to live without a guardian, Oak takes in Gary to raise him as his own. He doesn't spend much time with the child, however, but he does allow him to accompany him to his lab.

Gary visits Ash regularly in his chamber to keep himself company, and the two engage in either video games or action figure role-playing. Gary cannot be more delighted to have such a friend for two reasons. One, he is "cool" enough to hang out with an older kid like Ash. Two, Ash is a robot. Who else can say that they're friends with a _robot_?

"I beat you again!" Gary hops into the air in triumph one day.

Ash, who is still sitting on the couch, says, "Congratulations." His body is covered in silicon skin, making his smile look human. The kids are facing one-on-one in a fighting video game, and the fighter Gary has chosen emerges victorious once again.

"C'mon, aren't you mad that I beat you?"

"Why would I be mad?"

"Because you stink!" Gary lets out a big laugh before pointing, "Ashy-boy sti-inks! Ashy-boy sti-inks!"

"What's going on here?"

Ash and Gary turn around to see Oak walking into the room.

"I beat Ash again, Grandpa!" Gary runs up to him. "I told you I'm good!"

"That's great, Gary, but can you please be a little quieter?" Oak requests. "I can't focus on Ash's developments if I can hear you screaming from the office."

Gary scowls and turns to Ash, who is only watching curiously at their exchange. Oak blinks. He heard the insults Gary was flinging to Ash, but Ash doesn't seem offended. Rather, he looks unaffected. Oak stares intently at the boy as he, like many times before, tries to figure out why. Then an answer finally comes to his head, and he immediately wants to go back to his office.

"Wait!"

Oak turns around when his grandson calls out to him.

"Are we still playing together after you work?" Gary tugs on his lab coat. "You promised we would."

"I'm sorry, Gary, but I just discovered a solution to a problem we've been trying to solve for years," Oak answers apologetically. "I actually need to work overtime in the lab and then talk to Ash's mother. I hope you understand."

Gary gasps. "But you promised!" he hits Oak's thigh with a fist.

"Gary, stop!" Oak holds Gary's wrists when the child continues to punch him. "I have to work, okay?"

"You stink, Grandpa!" Gary screeches. He waves a finger to both Oak and Ash before exclaiming, "You all stink!"

"Gary!" Oak scolds, but the boy suddenly runs out of the room. He sighs and turns to Ash, who still just looks curious, and apologizes. "I'm sorry about that, Ash. My grandson has a bit of a temper."

Ash doesn't respond, mainly because he has yet to be programmed how to. It reminds Oak of his latest epiphany, and Oak bids the boy farewell before exiting the room.

~.~

Add two more years, which is seven years since Ash began his life as a robot, and Ash is living less like a machine and more like a human like his mother and father. His silicon skin is not only partnered with synthetic hair that matches his old body, but his light up cameras for eyes are also replaced by irises and pupils that look like the granite eyes he was born with. He can smile and frown, laugh and cry, and feel happiness and sadness. Those that look at him for the first time mistake him as another ten-year-old boy.

Media exposure upon the project has granted both Oak and Delia great financial support. Oak is now a well-renowned scientist awarded a more advanced lab, more exceptional staff, and funds to support bigger, more revolutionary projects. Delia doesn't have to worry about having a job anymore due to Oak's donations, and she thanks the professor by preparing food he doesn't have time to make for himself and his grandson.

Delia is ever glad that her son's developments allow him to live with her in their house again. What's better is that he isn't confined to his room like he used to be. He can roam around the house whenever he pleases, even when visitors like Oak and Gary come to visit. There is still a limitation, however. His power levels drain quickly, so he cannot travel far or do much without needing to recharge. Ash is still a prisoner in his own home, and because of the emotions he is now able to feel, sadness is reflected in the glass of the window he sees the world through.

"If Ash is to feel any emotion whatsoever," Delia remembers Oak telling her once, "he first has to know what pain feels like. Yes, we want him to live a happy life, but how will he know what happiness feels like if he doesn't get hurt once in while?"

Delia approaches her son in his room one day. "Ash," she calls out, "are you alright?"

"Do you think I'll ever be able to go outside, Mom?" Ash asks, his eyes still glued to the window.

Delia's frown deepens. She knows that it is Ash's dream to travel the world. Even so, she has hoped that being a robot will _somehow_ change his mind. But that is silly, she realizes. She grills Oak to make sure that her son doesn't lose who he is, and part of who Ash is is the yearning to explore. A part of herself hopes that her son will always be with her; but a bigger part, the part that wants him to be happy, pushes away her selfish desires and places a supportive hand on his shoulder.

"Anything is possible, Ash," Delia gives him a smile. "Just look at you now."

"I know," Ash sighs, "it's just...it took me seven years just to get out of Professor Oak's lab. How long will it take until I can go outside?"

Delia frowns again and pulls her son close. "I'm sorry, Ash. I promise I'm doing everything I can to make you happy."

Ash doesn't respond for a while, worrying Delia that he may be disappointed in her. Then he raises a hand to cup her own and leans against her, and she knows that his "brain" just retrieved information as to how to respond to situations such as this. Delia then realizes with a weighted heart what Ash is lacking, the one thing a human has that a robot never can.

The ability to love.

~.~

Ash's mouth hangs open as his eyes gape at the yellow pokémon in front of him. The pokémon tilts his head and gives him a curious look. The boy looks human, he thinks, but there is something about him that doesn't seem...natural.

"Ash, this is a pikachu," Oak introduces. The pikachu stands on Oak's office table for Oak, Ash, and Delia to see. Delia has seen a pokémon before so her attention is focused on her son, who looks like he can barely contain himself. For the first time in the eighteen years Ash has existed so far, this is the first time Ash has seen a pokémon in person.

"Wow," Ash gasps as he steps closer. "A real pokémon! It looks so much cooler in person!"

"And it will also solve your energy problem."

Ash and Delia blink and turn to the professor, who nods back confidently.

"I made some changes to Ash's hardware to be able to accept power from an electric type pokémon, as I have told you about Ash's little 'surgery' last week," Oak elaborated. He then picks up patches threading to a thick wire and shows it to the family. "Just attach these patches to Pikachu and this wire on the bottom of Ash's back. There is a plug that acts as a lightning rod and absorbs electricity. Ash can either recharge by using this wire or letting Pikachu shock him directly."

Delia gasps. "Is it safe?"

"Yes," Oak assures. "I may try to make him as human as possible, but that doesn't mean I'm not taking advantage of his robotic side."

Delia turns to Ash, who is staring with even wider eyes at what will be his power source. Pikachu isn't just going to be his new companion, she actualizes; he's going to allow him to travel outside his home.

"Does that mean I don't have to stay inside anymore?" Ash asks.

"Yes," Oak nods.

Ash beams and turns to his mother, who is frozen in place.

"Mom, do you hear that?" he asks. "I can go outside! I can finally see the world!"

Delia cringes. It may have gone unnoticed by her son but not by Oak, who does notice and adds, "Not far, however."

Ash blinks and turns to him. "Huh?"

"We have gone far in regards to your developments, Ash, but we have still yet to figure out how you can survive in the outside world," Oak informs. "Will you be safe under lengthened exposure to the sun? Will you be able to touch and swim through ocean water? Much more work needs to be done before you can travel the world as you like. But don't worry. After many years of research and upgrades, we have ensured stability for your life indoors. It may not take long to do the same for your life outdoors."

Ash blinks and looks down. He isn't disheartened but isn't pleased either. Confused, he turns to his mother, who tries to hide her own discomfort. Delia is relieved by the professor's kind words but gains new worries for her son. Sure Ash is technically living for almost two decades, but mentally, and physically, he is still a ten-year-old boy. Then, again, her desire to give her son the happiness he never had outweighs her own grief, and she gives Ash a warm but pained simper.

"Don't worry, Ash," she assures, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Professor Oak is giving you a pokémon that can let you go outside the house. Sure, it's not the same as traveling the world, but it is a start."

Ash's shoulders relaxes under her touch. "Yeah," he concedes, "I guess you're right." He turns to Pikachu, who is confused now more than ever.

"Pika-pi..."

"Let's go outside!" Ash exclaims.

The outside world, Ash realizes later when he exits his home for the first time, is better than he imagined it could be. The crisp air emanating from the trees smells fresher than the air conditioning in Oak's lab. The bright glow of the sunlight feels warmer than his mother's heater. The blades of the grass feel more authentic than the ones on his posters. Paradise is finally within Ash's reach, and all he needs to do is go to his backyard.

Pikachu is ever so confused as he watches the boy frolic through the space. Ash's energy levels drain quickly, as expected, but after a quick Thundershock from Pikachu, he is back in his jubilee.

"I've never seen him this happy," Delia speaks out, more to herself, as she and Oak watch Ash chase Pikachu through the grass.

"Neither have I," Oak nods with a big smile on his face. "Just watching him makes me want to run around myself."

Delia says nothing as her son has the time of his life. It brings her to tears for two reasons. She is happy that her son is happy, but sad because she knows what's going to happen next. She hopes again, just to comfort herself, that she will be wrong. But twelve energy surges later, Ash approaches her and says the words that breaks her heart.

"The world is amazing!" Ash exclaims. "I want to see more of it! All of it!"

"You will soon, Ash," Oak assures, too delighted by his joy to notice Delia's growing dread. "With the progress we're making, you might be outside in two or three years."

"Two or three years?" Ash whines. "That's too long!"

"The time will pass, Ash," Oaks tells him. "The time will pass."

And it passes quickly, Delia sees with despair, for when ten years officially pass and Ash is technically twenty-years-old, Oak announces that Ash is ready to leave his home. The whole world, not just Delia and Oak, has been watching Ash "grow up", and the resulting support that comes in either donations or information help expedite Ash's development. Ash can now think, speak, eat, and feel like a human, and just as many other humans with goals and dreams, Ash aspires to see the world with his own eyes.

"He won't travel alone, of course," Oak says as he explains Ash's trip to Delia. "A technician is going to accompany him to perform maintenance and send me updates. This journey is going to benefit both your son and my research, but of course, it won't happen unless you allow it to happen."

Delia clenches her fists. This is it, she tells herself. This is the day she has been fearing would happen. She can stop everything right here, right now, so her son can stay with her. But she can't do it, she realizes with grief. This is the opportunity Ash has been waiting for his whole life. He has been hoping, dreaming— _yearning_ for a chance like this. Now that he finally has the chance to take it, can she really deny him that chance?

"L-Let him go," Delia staggers, taking a deep breath before adding, "Just…m-make sure he's in...safe hands."

"Don't worry, Delia," Oak assures, abandoning the formal name through years of increased propinquity, "I may not care about him like you do, but I do care about him a lot. Nothing bad will happen to him; I promise."

~.~

Brock, Delia decides, is the spitting image of his father. He has the same narrow eyes, dark chocolate skin, and spiky black hair. But there is a distinct difference between the relatives. Despite being only fifteen years old, Brock acts more like an actual dad than his father does.

Before accepting Oak's job offer as Ash's "babysitter," Brock spent much of his life raising his siblings when both his mother and father left their family. When his father returned one day to visit them, Brock demanded that he stayed so he could fulfill his own dreams for a change. His bravery gained him Flint's respect, and he was permitted to leave. Brock was interested in both biology and robotics, so when Oak offered him a job to travel with Ash, he thought he landed the job of a lifetime. He accepted the position in a heartbeat, and now he is in Delia's kitchen, serving Ash his homemade fettuccine alfredo.

"This is really good, Brock," Ash muffles as he devours more of the pasta.

"Thanks, Ash," Brock nods. He is aware that Ash is a robot, but Ash's constant adaptation to humanity is making him a very convincing boy. Brock is more than happy to feed him, play games with him and Pikachu, and just generally be there for him when he needs a friend. And he is ever grateful for Ash's company as well. Being with Ash makes him feel like the kid he never got to be. Now that they are going to travel together, he is going to go on an adventure like one.

Delia tries with great difficulty not to frown as Ash and Brock make the final preparations for their trip. The days progressing to this day were stressful. Oak had to give her a lot of information to assure her that there can only be more good than bad that can come out of the journey. Not only will Ash accomplish his dream of traveling the world, his trek through different terrains for prolonged periods of time can supply useful information for Oak's research. Ash can only advance himself being out there, and his journey can give birth to other aspiring adventurers that escaped death like he did.

When Ash and Brock are standing at the front door, Pikachu sitting on Ash's shoulder, Delia and Oak are there with them bidding them goodbye. Delia is breaking from the inside but stays strong for her son. Brock notices her discomfort, however, and gives her a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry, Mrs. Ketchum," he assures. "I have nine siblings. If I can take care of nine kids on my own, I can definitely take care of Ash."

Despite Delia's apprehension, her worries start to deplete. The boy looks and acts just like his father, but there is one distinct difference between the two that Delia takes comfort in. Brock _wants_ to take care of others; Flint does not.

"Okay," Delia nods, finally letting go of her son's hand.

Ash's face brightens, and before Delia can prepare for it, he engulfs her into a tight hug.

"Thanks, Mom," Ash says. "This is the best day of my life!"

Delia takes a deep breath and squeezes him back. It's ironic, really. The day that her son has been waiting for all his life is the day she has been dreading. Has raising him been easy, of course not. But will it make his departure from their home any easier? Absolutely not. She has yet to spend a day without him. How will she cope?

"I'll make sure he calls you every day," Brock assures, detecting her growing despair, "so it will be like he never left."

Delia tries hard not to cry, but after such a reassuring note, she can't hold back the tear that falls down one eye. She quickly wipes it away before Ash looks at her. After everything he has been through, Ash should not see his mother cry.

Oak puts a hand on Delia's shoulder as Ash and Brock open the door. Pikachu waves at the mother from Ash's shoulder. "Pika, pika!" he bids. Delia waves back weakly before watching her son and his companions leave the house.

Oak gasps when Delia collapses to the ground. He can only hold her as she lets out a muffled shriek.

~.~

By the time Brock and Ash depart on their journey across the Kanto region, ten years have passed. No one has heard from Ash's father, so everyone, especially Delia, thought that he had actually moved on without them. But they were wrong. They were very wrong.

In a laboratory deep underground Giovanni's headquarters, a six-foot entity floats in a glass cylinder packed with green fluid. The creature's skin is white except for its lower half and tail, which is a light shade of violet. It is an entity no one has seen before, and it is still developing.

"Subject Ninety-Six's blood pressure is becoming stable, sir," a scientist announces. The screen in front of him has numbers and bar charts that are gradually fluctuating to a stop.

"His brain activity is stabilizing as well," another scientist with a screen adds.

"Excellent," Giovanni nods satisfactorily. "Make sure it continues to stabilize. I want it walking by the end of this month."

The scientists, as well as the others working with them, look skeptical but nod submissively. Delia isn't the only one who can use science to save their son. Giovanni's prisoner may have escaped, but it provided enough of its DNA to begin another opportunity Giovanni quickly seized. The man may no longer have a legend, but he does have a developing better version of it.

If the entity turns out to be the one Giovanni and his men were looking for, it will be called "Ash." For now, however, it will be called Mewtwo.


	4. Episode 03: Welcome

Hello, everyone, and welcome to the third episode! A lot is going to happen here, so prepare to get your heart pumping. Thanks to Snark Knight, my editor, for helping me edit the chapter. The assistance took a huge load off my back.

Enjoy!

* * *

Giovanni glares at his television screen. The broadcast it's showing was recorded a week ago, but he watches it every day as if it's new. He still can't comprehend it. Not only did Delia turn their son into a robot, but she also put him under the supervision of a teenage boy.

He checks the time before clicking on the passage's camera feed. As expected, a young woman with long magenta hair and blue eyes stands behind the door. Giovanni pushes the button under his desk before she knocks, and the woman enters.

"Agent 32 at your service, sir," she greets.

"Did you come alone?" Giovanni asks.

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Giovanni shuts the door with another push of the button. "I have a mission for you, a mission no one outside of this room will know about. If you speak of this to anyone, you will join your mother in her grave. Do I make myself clear?"

The agent nods.

Giovanni eyes her up and down before minimizing the camera feed. After another glance, he turns the desktop screen, so its image faces her.

"Watch him and make sure nothing happens to him," he instructs. "Report every day before midnight and exclude no detail. If even one day goes by without a report, there will be consequences. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good," Giovanni hums. "Dismissed."

The agent bows before exiting the room. Her eyes dart to all directions before approaching the black car parked by a nearby tree. She enters through the passenger's door and shuts it behind her.

"So, Jessie," the man inside calls out. His green eyes glint as his ice violet hair brush his shoulders. "What's the plan?"

"Yeah, Jess?" a white cat pokémon interjects from the backseat. "What'd Giovanni tell ya?"

"The little boy he wants me to follow around is the robot kid," the agent tells them. "Wants me to make sure nothing happens to him."

"Why?" the man asks.

"Does it matter?" the pokémon retorts. "It obviously means something to that douche. Let's sick 'im!"

"Not directly."

The man and pokémon turn to the agent, who crosses her arms and glares at the windshield.

"He claims my mother died in an accident," she reminds them. "Only fair the kid's off-ed the same way."

"You saying we should dump snow on 'im?" the cat asks.

" _Shut up_ , Meowth," the man grunts.

"Every robot has a power source."

They look at her again. A tablet illuminates the car by displaying something small and yellow.

"Would be a shame if someone, or some people, took it away from him."

The man and the pokémon smirk. The agent smirks as well before jerking her head toward the road.

"Take us home, James," she orders.

"With pleasure," James switches gear shifts.

The wheels of the car screech before taking the team away.

~.~

"Where are we going first, Brock?" Ash pipes. Pikachu sits on the robot's shoulders and clutches his hat to steady himself. His ears twitch as the morning sun warms them.

"Viridian City," Brock answers. "It isn't that far from Pallet Town. We just have to walk through Route 1."

"Sounds good to me!" Ash pumps a fist. He just saw buildings taller than his eyes can reach. Now he beholds fields grander than his eyes can take in. Pokémon and people move along the grass while the sun and clouds soar above them. The android marvels the sun on his hair and the wind between his fingers; the way his hat and jacket flops, and the grass crunches beneath his shoes.

Arriving at Viridian City is even more surreal. It is much urbaner than Pallet, so there are fewer flowers and trees but more buildings and cars. Ash doesn't know what he likes more. The city is different from his hometown, but it isn't bad. If anything, he appreciates it for providing him a fresh vision. He listens to Brock describe establishments from hospitals to cafés. The one that catches his eye is the pokémon gym, but a guard standing by the door refuses their entrance. The gym leader is out, the sentinel says, so they can only come in when the replacement arrives next week.

"Don't worry, Ash," Brock consoles when Ash pouts. "You can visit my gym."

Ash's head cocks. "You have a gym?"

"Yeah," Brock nods. "I ran it myself to provide for my siblings."

"Alright!" Ash hops. "Let's go to it!"

"Hold on, Ash, it's not that simple," Brock waves his hands. "The gym is in Pewter City, which is a little far from here. It's going to take a little time before we get there."

Ash's shoulders slump. "How long?"

"About half an hour."

"Aww man!" the robot stomps his feet. Pikachu wobbles and grips his hat.

"Pika-pi!" he protests.

"Don't be too down, Ash," Brock waves his hands again. "It's still morning, remember? We have a lot of time to get there."

"Oh," Ash blinks. "Well...what are we going to do in the meantime?"

"We can explore the city," Brock suggests. "You haven't been around one, right?"

Ash's face brightens. "No! I haven't!"

"Then let's go!" Brock pumps an encouraging fist.

"Yeah!"

~.~

Silver, now ten-years-old, gathers his belongings before exiting the classroom. Who cares about what his teacher is rambling about? He passes his classes regardless if he's there or not. His father makes sure of that.

What Silver needs to focus on is training pokémon. The only reason he attends school is so that no one will connect him to the most dangerous mafia in the world. As proud as his mother, Ariana, is that he goes to one like other children do, his father, Giovanni, can't care less. The mafia, Team Rocket, is Giovanni's primary focus. The only way Silver can get his attention is if he can hold his own in the group's resistance.

But there lies the problem: to train pokémon, one must have pokémon. Despite being Silver's only support, Ariana refuses to give him one. She doesn't want him to get involved with Team Rocket, she says. It was why she sent him to Johto, the region neighboring Kanto. He can't get involved if he isn't around.

Giovanni, on the other hand, probably agreed because he just wanted him as far away as possible. He has never expressed anything but disdain for his son. They rarely see each other due to distance, but when they do reunite, his repulsion seems to grow. Silver gained the courage to ask him why he behaves this way once, and Giovanni didn't mince his words.

 _"You only exist because your mother and I made a mistake. If it were up to me, you never would've seen the light of day."_

Silver was only four-years-old. Ariana, who wasn't able to take him away in time, didn't explain but didn't have to. He was made from a drunken encounter. The only reason he's still alive is that his mother refuses to abandon him. Maybe that's why she tries so hard to give him a normal, civilized life. She thinks it will make up for his terrible upbringing.

Silver climbs a hill until he is looking down at his destination: New Bark Town's pokémon research lab. He slips a black mask over his face and waits until the kids and their parents empty the vicinity. There is an open window at the side of the building, and it's surveyed by nothing. Morons, Silver sneers. They think the lab doesn't need security because it's in a safe, rural region.

The boy is aghast his parents don't believe he's capable of living in a tougher environment but thanks them as he slips into the window. The window leads to what seems to be where Professor Elm, the lead scientist of the laboratory, distributes pokémon to the public. A long table stretches across the room. Behind it are a line of chairs, file cabinets, and a large encasement filled with poké balls. It's practically a treasure chest, Silver muses as he nears it, and it's all his.

But the chest is sealed shut. Only a passcode typed into a small number board can open the case, and Silver has no clue as to what it can be. He grunts and hits the top with a fist. There has to be another way.

"What are you doing?" A skinny man wearing a lab coat and large glasses stands at the doorway of the room.

Silver turns around to face him, his right hand reaching into his pocket. "Open the chest."

"You're a child," the man realizes. Silver's face may be concealed with a mask, but his voice still sounds like a young boy's. "Where are your parents?"

"I said open the chest!" Silver repeats. He draws a knife and sprints toward the man. His target jumps and scurries toward the encasement.

"Alright," the man types the passcode. "Just put the knife away."

Silver approaches him but doesn't replace his weapon. Instead, he points it toward the man as the chest finally reveals its contents. His eyes widen with interest. There are more poké balls than he can count.

"Step back," Silver commands. Once the man gives him room, he turns to face his options. The poké balls look identical. How is he to know which one is which?

"I could've given you one if you had come earlier," the man tells him, careful not to touch the weapon's point. "Why resort to theft?"

"Shut up!" Silver barks.

"Just come back with your parents," he proposes. "I won't press charges if you leave and return in peace."

His kindness infuriates Silver. He's pointing a knife at him, yet the man is showing more mercy than one who should be fearing for his life. Perhaps he doesn't take him seriously, Silver grits his teeth. Another person that doesn't think he's good enough to live.

Without a second thought, the knife plunges into the hostage's shoulder.

"Ugh!" the man clutches his wound. Blood pools through his fingers as he struggles to stop the bleeding. "Help! Somebody call the police!"

Silver snatches a random poké ball from the encasement and flees when other people burst into the room. Voices holler for him to stop and come back, but he ignores them and dashes up the hill.

He didn't expect things to end like this. The redhead only took the knife with him as a precaution but wasn't even provoked when he barely missed the man's heart. Or maybe he was, Silver thinks. The man didn't see him as a threat. The boy had to correct him.

A chuckle rumbles through Silver's lips. He can already see it in the news. Mysterious kid breaks into a pokémon research lab and injures a scientist. The world may not know who he is and what he's capable of, but they will.

And so will his parents.

~.~

Oak narrows his eyes. Ash is constantly overheating. Despite the boy's wishes to keep traveling, he and his companions often retreat inside buildings so Ash can cool down. The professor has not expected complications to occur this soon on the trip. Then again, this is the first time Ash is traveling the world.

Oak clicks the "Reply" button on Brock's email and types. He responds with many things, but the primary objective is this:

 _Keep Ash indoors._

~.~

On the roof of a skyscraper, a cat pokémon yawns before returning to his binoculars.

"What are they doing now, Meowth?" James asks.

"They're just walkin' around," the cat hums. "Look at this idiot. It's like it's the first time he's seein' buildin's!"

"That's because it _is_ his first time, Meowth," Jessie crosses her legs. "Didn't you do your research?"

"Eh, who needs research?" Meowth waves off. "I just figured out how to take the pikachu!"

Jesse and James stand and approach him.

"How are we going to take him?" James asks.

"The kid keeps rechargin'," Meowth informs as Ash and his comrades enter a building. "If we take the rat right before it fills him up, he'll be too weak to fight back."

"But what about his babysitter?" James adds.

"I'll take care of him."

James and Meowth turn to Jessie. There is a determination in her eyes they haven't seen before. The team may have done terrible deeds, but it isn't until now do they realize they can do much more.

"A'right," Meowth grins. "So what's the plan?"

~.~

Giovanni emerges from the elevator and heads to the office on his right. A man with long curled bangs and a goatee is looking down at a picture behind his desk. He replaces the frame when Giovanni stands before him. "Good evening, sir," he cordially greets.

"I came like you asked, Fuji," Giovanni states. "What do you need?"

"Right," Dr. Fuji, the scientist Giovanni assigned to lead his project, picks a folder from his desk and leads him out. "This way."

The men tread through several hallways until they reach a double door. Fuji swipes the card wound around his neck, and the entrance parts to reveal a dark room. Subject 96, or Mewtwo, is in a chamber walled with thick plexiglass. He wears a large helmet covering his head and armor constricting his arms and legs. Wires connect him to the walls behind it and transfer data to the computers outside the chamber. To make sure the entity stays in place, metal rods bind his joints to the floor and ceiling.

"So what's happening here?" Giovanni asks, calling the attention of the scientists in front of the computers.

"Subject 96 is showing exceptional acceptance to the energy we're surging into him," Fuji answers. "If our calculations are correct, he may utilize the level of power we desire."

"So what are you waiting for?" Giovanni demands. "Give it to him!"

"Well you see, sir, this is something we have to discuss," Fuji begins. "Subject 96 holds genes of untold might. We cannot accurately describe what he is capable of."

"You've done research on that cat, didn't you?" Giovanni reminds. "What more do you need?"

"Well you see, sir, before we discovered it, Mew was just a legend," Fuji points out. "The only information we can gather about it are from myths and folklore. There was no proof that Mew even existed until we found it, and it escaped before we could collect sufficient data."

"We sent out a team to retrieve the pest," Giovanni states, "but why have it if we have something better?"

"Because—"

"Listen!" Giovanni halts the scientist with a finger. "I said I want this thing walking by the end of this month. Are you doing your job or not?"

"Y-Yes, sir."

"Then there's nothing to discuss," Giovanni lowers his finger. "You've been working on this for almost a decade, and I've been more than patient! If this thing isn't ready by the end of the month, then you and your associates are _done_. Understand?"

Fuji gulps. The scientists behind him stop moving.

"Yes, sir," Fuji bows.

"Good," Giovanni turns to the exit. "Now get to work!"

The people in the room watch him disappear before turning to each other. They are afraid but can't decide what to fear most. After a moment of thought, they turn to Subject 96.

"You heard him, everyone," Fuji's shaky voice echoes through the room. "Do it."

~.~

Ash scowls as the group, yet again, retreats into another building. He used to get excited when they enter new institutions, but that changed when they only do so to sit down.

"Your hardware keeps overheating, Ash," Brock justifies. "We'll explore more once you cool down."

But it's almost sunset, and they have only explored a fraction of the city. It isn't fair, Ash fumes. It's his first day traveling yet he spends more time indoors than outdoors. He might as well be back in Pallet Town where he can only be either in his house or Oak's lab. No, scratch that. Back when he was a _human_ , when even a speck of dirt from the outside world was toxic. There's no difference!

"I'm going to use the bathroom," Brocks stands from the couch they're sitting on. "You and Pikachu stay right here, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Ash waves him off.

He crosses his arms and hides his face with his hat. It reminds Brock of his siblings. Some of them sulk like that when they don't get what they want. He gives the boy a look before rushing to the latrines. The sooner he leaves, the sooner he returns.

As soon as he is out of sight, however, another person walks in.

"Hiya!" a meowth approaches Ash.

"Woah," Ash runs up to him. "You can talk!"

"Yeah, I can!" the meowth gives him a thumbs-up. "There's a bunch of us that can. Want to meet the rest of 'em?"

Ash hops in excitement. "Yeah I do!"

"Great!" Meowth pulls him to the exit. "Come quick before they leave!"

"Pika-pi!" Pikachu protests, pulling Ash to stay in place.

"What's wrong, Pikachu?" Ash looks down at him.

"Pi!" the mouse points to the hallway, where the bathrooms are. Ash follows his gaze and scowls.

"Well, stay here if you don't want to go!" he stomps. "But I'm going!"

"Pika!"

But Ash is already running away with the meowth. Pikachu looks at him, to the bathrooms, and then back to Ash again. Brock told them to stay on the couches, but Ash can't be alone.

Without another thought, Pikachu darts out of the building. He spots Ash heading to the forest and prepares to take after him.

"Come here!"

" _Pika_!"

Pikachu's cry is loud enough to stop Ash in his tracks. When the robot turns around, Pikachu is heading to another part of the forest in the clutches of a rubber claw. Holding the claw is a tall man with ice violet hair.

"Pikachu!" Ash yells.

"Hey!" the meowth calls out, but the boy is already making his way to the mouse.

Brock bursts out of the building and picks up Ash's voice. "Ash!" he runs after him. If the robot keeps running, he will shut down.

"Please give him back!" Ash pleads to Pikachu's captor. " _Please_!"

"Ash, come back!" Brock calls out.

The robot suddenly collapses to the ground, drained. Brock gasps and runs faster.

"Wrap!"

A purple cobra binds Brock, making him yell in pain and shock. The teen tries to break free, but his predator grips him tightly.

"Keep squeezing him, Arbok," Jessie marches toward him.

"Who are you?" Brock wheezes. "And why are you doing this?"

"Shut up!" the agent barks.

Jessie's hand instinctively reaches for her gun but stops right when it grazes the weapon. The setting is too close to the city. A gunshot will alert the citizens. If she's going to get rid of the guardian, she has to dispose of him quietly.

"Arbok," she turns to her partner, "use Dig."

The cobra gives Brock another squeeze, hops into the air, and starts to burrow.

"No, let me go!" Brock tilts toward the soil. "Let me _go_!"

"Bro-ock!" Ash sobs. Tears stream down his face as he crawls toward his guardian.

"No, Ash, stay back!"

Ash yelps when Jessie's boot crushes his hand.

"Don't worry, kid," the agent sneers. "This hurts your father more than it hurts you."

Ash's eyes widen.

"Hydro Pump!"

A water blast shoots Arbok in the face, prompting her to release her victim. Brock wobbles a bit at his freedom but quickly steadies himself.

"What?" Jessie demands.

A starfish-like pokémon with ten legs and a red gem center emerges with her young trainer. The trainer has orange hair tied to the upper left side of her head, suspenders connecting her yellow crop top with her jean shorts, and red and white sneakers.

"Leave them alone!" she orders.

Jessie seethes. "Over my dead body! Arbok use Take Down!"

The cobra rises and lunges for the starfish.

"You're not going to get away with this, twerp," Meowth lunges for the starfish as well.

"Onix, Slam!"

As fast as it emerges, a rock snake pokémon pummels Meowth and Arbok into the ground. The size of his tail is enough to hide them, preventing their escape.

"Nice," the assisting trainer compliments.

"Thanks," Brock nods.

"Not so fast."

James and Pikachu approach the scene. Pikachu is still in the rubber claw, but something else keeps him from moving.

"Let them go," James orders, nudging a gun at the mouse's skull.

Jessie smirks while her targets gasp. "You heard him," she draws and points her own gun at Ash. "Unless you want to see what's inside the robot's head."

Brock looks up at Onix, who anxiously waits for his command. He gives him a stiff nod, and the snake lifts his tail.

"Good," Jessie commends. She returns Arbok to her poké ball. Meowth stands and marches toward the younger trainers.

"Keep the guns at 'em," he says. "I wanna see 'em bleed."

Brock and the girl stagger back, but Jessie's gun prevents them from moving further. The cat's eyes are sharp and angry. No one is going to leave without seeing blood.

But then a voice stops him in his tracks. An authoritative voice.

"Drop the guns!"

The police captain, Captain Jenny, marches to the scene with her own weapon ready. Officers just as armed follow closely behind.

Meowth retracts his claws.

"And drop the Pikachu," Jenny adds.

James turns to Jessie. The agent looks more displeased than he does but prompts him to obey. James curses and releases their captive.

"Pika-pi!" Pikachu runs toward his trainer.

The boy is still on the ground, his eyes barely open. After a Thundershock, Ash sits up, holds the pokémon, and sobs onto the mouse's head.

"Now, nobody move," the captain orders.

The troop behind her make their way to the involved. They don't know who to trust, so they point their guns at both Brock and the trainer as well as Jessie and her team. The tension decreases when Brock and the girl are in the officers' guard.

But then James drops a smoke bomb. When the scene clears, the attackers are nowhere to be found.

"Damn it!" Jenny curses. "Search for them! They couldn't have gotten far!"

A squadron left to do so as the captain approaches Ash. The robot coils and clutches Pikachu to his chest.

"Please don't hurt me," he whimpers.

"Don't worry, son," Jenny soothes. "The bad people are gone now."

"Ash!" Brock sprints to them. "Are you alright?"

Ash shakes his head, but in doing so, notices the trainer standing behind his guardian. "Who are you?" he asks.

"My name is Misty," the trainer kneels, so they're eye to eye. "You're Ash, right? The living robot."

"Yeah."

Misty grins and pats him on the shoulder. "Well I'm sorry this...mess happened on your first day in the world. There are a lot of bad people out here," she says. "Just know that not all of us are bad."

"I believe you," Ash slowly smiles. "Thanks for helping us."

"You're welcome," Misty offers him a hand.

Ash accepts it and stands. The two smile at each other, their hands still together.

"Let's talk back at the police station," Jenny interjects. "We need to contact your mother and the professor."

~.~

While a psychologist in the police station evaluates Ash in a separate room, Jenny reveals to Brock, Misty, and—when they arrive—Oak and Delia, that the crooks that tried to steal Pikachu are probably from an infamous mafia called Team Rocket. The leader of the organization is unknown, but there are rumors that he and his associates have connections in Viridian City.

"But why would they try to steal Ash's pikachu?" Brock asks.

"I don't know," Jenny admits. "We're hoping to find out if our search team finds them. But don't hold your breath. Team Rocket has escaped the law many times before, hence why they get away with so many crimes."

"I shouldn't have let Ash leave Pallet," Delia makes a tight fist. "As soon as he's done in there, I'm taking him back home."

Oak widens his eyes. "Deli—"

"Don't fight me on this, Samuel!" Delia cuts him off. "He is my son before anything else."

"But the attackers were after Pikachu, not Ash," Brock points out. "If we keep Pikachu in his poké ball until he's needed, wouldn't that solve our problem?"

"No, because Ash was threatened too!" Delia remarks. "And if Captain Jenny is correct, then that means a _mafia_ is after my son!"

"It might be a little more complicated than that."

Everyone turns to Jenny.

"Ash said that one of the attackers knew who his father was," the captain elaborates. "There's a chance this incident is more personal than just simple theft."

Delia pales.

"Are you implying these people attacked Ash to hurt his father?" Oak proposes.

"Possibly," Jenny guesses.

"Did Ash say he knows who his father is?" Delia stumbles forward.

"No," the captain shakes her head. "He actually seems very confused as to why he doesn't."

"That's because I made him forget," Delia rasps. "He should never, _ever_ , know who his father is."

"You..."

Delia freezes.

"...made me forget my dad?" Ash asks. He just entered the captain's office when Delia confesses her deed.

Delia gasps and approaches him. "Ash—"

"Why?" Ash steps back. "Why would you do that?"

"Because he left you, Ash," Delia justifies. "He left _us_."

"Then let me look for him!" Ash proposes. "Let me bring him home!"

Delia widens her eyes. "Ash, no—"

"Tell me who he is!" Ash demands. "Tell me so I can find him!"

"No, Ash," Delia holds his hand. "You need to come home an—"

"NO!" Ash rips his hand back. "You'll just make me forget this day, so I don't look for him! I'll probably never leave the house again too!"

"It's to keep you safe, Ash!" Delia retorts. "Why can't you understand that?"

"Will it matter if I do?" Ash remarks. "After all, I'm just a _robot_! I'll only do what you want me to do!"

He sprints out of the room, leaving his mother weak to her knees. Brock is instantly after him, Pikachu trailing close behind. After a moment of awkward silence, Misty leaves as well.

~.~

Brock and Pikachu have been searching for Ash for almost an hour, but neither has the luck to find him like Misty does. Misty is doing her own search for the boy when she spots him sitting by a lake. Clever, she thinks. He is crouching so lowly behind the tall grass, she almost misses him.

She glides down a rocky slope and approaches him. Ash gasps and turns to run.

"Don't worry; I won't turn you in," Misty assures. "I just want to hang out with you a little bit."

Ash watches her sit down beside him. It's intriguing. Despite his computer mind, he can't find a logical reason why she would join him. But he doesn't mind her presence. He has someone to watch the sunset with.

"I may not be a robot."

Ash's ears perk.

"But I know what it's like to only act the way you're expected to," Misty shares. "How you're not allowed to make mistakes. It doesn't matter how far you make it. People always assume you can't take care of yourself, like just _thinking_ about pursuing your dreams will get you killed."

Ash blinks. This is the first time someone has expressed thoughts similar to his. It's comforting to know someone else can relate to him. Misty seems to think the same because she shoots him a knowing smile.

"I hope you're not too mad at your mom," she continues. "I know it's hard to believe at first, but she means well. She just doesn't believe you can do what you want to because...well, you did die ten years ago. That would make any mother worry more than she already does."

"How do you know so much about me?" Ash asks.

"You're kinda famous, you know," Misty shrugs. "I also think you're really cool."

"Wow, thanks!" Ash grins. "I think you're really cool too!"

Misty blushes and lowers her face to hide it. "Thanks."

The two of them watch the sun disappear into the grass. The orange skies turn purple, and then dark blue with stars.

"What if," Misty looks up to the arriving moon, "what if I help you...find your dad?"

Ash gapes. "You want to help me find my dad?"

"Yeah," Misty tucks her knees. "If...that's okay with you, of course."

"Of course that's okay!" Ash beams. "But," he sombers, "what if my mom doesn't let me go?"

"We'll change her mind," Misty gives him a determined look. "After all, I'm a gym leader too. Well, technically a gym-leader-in-training, but I did help you and your friend earlier, didn't I?"

"Yeah, you did!" Ash stands up. "Let's tell her that then!"

He offers her a hand like she did with him earlier. His eyes shine in excitement as he waits for her to take it. She does, and the two walk hand-in-hand to the police station.

~.~

Oak nods attentively as the psychologist, Dr. Jim Ben, explains to him the results of Ash's evaluation.

"His awareness of the situation was deteriorating with his decreasing energy," Ben shares. "Fortunately so because it lessens his trauma from the event, but he is still shaken from what he was able to register."

"How much does he remember?" Oak asks.

"Only up until one of the attackers mentioned...his father," Ben answers slowly, wary of the disheartened Delia listening from a bench.

"Alright," Oak sighs. "At least he didn't register the part when the attackers drew guns."

"Yes, but he still needs a session or two to cope with what he _does_ remember," Ben tells him. "After all, he is a ten-year-old boy who was traumatized in his first time out in the world. Not to mention the subject of his fa—"

"Thank you, Doctor," Delia cuts. "We'll contact you if we have any questions."

Ben opens his mouth to retort but closes it after assessing Delia's glare. He politely excuses himself and exits the room.

"So what are you thinking?" Oak sits beside the mother.

"You know, Ash is lucky he can delete his memories at all," Delia grunts. "All the bad memories and feelings can be wiped out with a click of a button. Not like us, who have to deal with the burdens of our history."

"It's what helps us grow as living beings," Oak points out. "Our past pains and how we cope with them shape who we are."

"Do you think that's why Ash got so mad when he heard that I deleted his memories?" Delia asks. "I wasn't letting him grow as a person?"

"Well he always wanted to be as human as the rest of us," Oak exhales. "Probably because he doesn't know what that entails."

Delia's head lowers. "I just want to protect him."

"I understand," Oak nods. "Don't worry, Delia. Every good parent wants to protect their children from the world's cruelty."

"He says he wants to find his father," Delia cringes. "He has no idea how much that man loathes him, how far that bastard went to disown him and the woman that gave birth to him."

"Come now, Delia, that can't be true."

"But it is," Delia sighs. "I've tried everything to forget about him and what he did, but Ash wants to bring him back into our lives?"

Brock knocks on the door before he and Pikachu enter the office. Right before Oak can ask, Misty and Ash follow inside.

"Ash," Delia stands.

Ash tenses. "Mom."

The relatives slowly meet at the center of the room. Delia places a hand on Ash's shoulder as if confirming he is really there. Then she pulls him into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you, Ash," she apologizes. "I hope you can forgive me."

Ash relaxes and returns her embrace. "I'm sorry I yelled at you."

Delia smiles and plants a kiss on his forehead. "Ash, I want you to remember that I'm doing everything I can to make you happy."

"Are you still going to erase my memories?" Ash asks.

Delia frowns and steps back. "I'm...going to give you a choice," she offers. "I can tell you about your father and, if it hurts too much, we'll make you forget it."

Ash's eyes widen. "You're going to tell me about my dad?"

Delia stiffly nods.

"Yes!" Ash jumps.

"Have you kids eaten dinner yet?" Oak addresses Brock and Misty. Both give him a negative. "Why don't I take you out—my treat—for helping Ash today?"

"Sounds good to me," Brock favors. "How about you, Misty?"

Misty looks at the professor before studying the mother and son. The family needs privacy, she realizes. Gratitude isn't the only reason Oak is offering dinner. He's trying to get the mother and son alone.

"I'd appreciate it, thank you," she complies. She doesn't want to part from Ash but understands that he needs to make amends with his mother. Hopefully, he will be strong enough to handle the truth he is so eager to receive. She doesn't want him to forget about their arrangement. Maybe even her.

Oak gives Delia an affirmative smile before leaving with the kids.

"Can I come too?" Ash cocks his head. Pikachu hops up to perch on his shoulder. He's not leaving him alone again.

"Let me make you your favorite dinner tonight," Delia offers. "Don't you miss your mother's cooking?"

Ash does but wants to have dinner with Oak and his new friends. But if going home is the only way to learn about his father, then he'll go. He remembers what Misty told him and nods at Delia. His mother doesn't have a reason to have faith in him, so he'll give her one.

"Yeah, let's go."

~.~

Giovanni grips the edge of his armrest. He was following up on his project when a scientist told him to watch the breaking news. The leader is fortunate to do so in the privacy of his secret office. His reaction may have startled unwanted attention in the headquarters.

"Ash Ketchum, the world's first sentient robot, and his guardian, Brock Anchor, were attacked earlier today by a man, woman, and meowth. Here are the sketches of the suspects."

Giovanni doesn't recognize the man and pokémon but recognizes the woman. Damn that wench, he curses to himself. She has the nerve to double-cross him.

"If you have any information about these suspects, please contact the Viridian Police Department at 038-715-2669."

Indeed, Giovanni has information, but he won't share it with the cops. He runs his own laws. Justice will be served when the three fools drown in their own blood.

The question is, who is going to drown them?


	5. Episode 04: Changing Thoughts

Hello, and welcome to the fourth episode. Due to unforeseen circumstances, this episode has been edited by me alone. Feel free to point out any mistakes if you'd like. I won't get salty as long as you're not rude.

I want to thank you for voicing your thoughts in the reviews. I'm delighted that you are as excited for every update as I am. To answer **Denavor** 's question, it is just as proper to refer Ash as an android as it is to refer him as a robot since androids are a type of robot. But I thank you for pointing this out. I've probably been using the word "robot" too much, so should work on using other terms such as "android".

Another note before you begin, prepare your hearts again. This time, for the rest of the series. This particular episode is dark, and things won't get peachier in future chapters.

Enjoy!

* * *

Ash's eyes widen, and this isn't because he finds something interesting in his soup. His mother struggles to communicate what she has to say, stammering for the most part and taking long pauses to stare into empty space. But she eventually delivers her message. When she finishes, Ash's body is so still, it reminds him of the days his joints are still able to rust.

"So he left to find a cure for my disease," the boy concludes, still barely able to move.

Delia grips her spoon and nods. "Yes."

"But I'm not sick anymore," Ash reminds. "Why hasn't he come back?"

"I don't know," his mother confesses. "But whatever reason he has can never justify leaving you, Ash. That's why I wiped him from your memories. If he refuses to be with his family, then he doesn't deserve to be remembered."

Ash remains still. Delia frowns upon realizing that neither of them has touched their meals. The gravity of their conversation has removed whatever appetite they have had before they spoke. Delia can handle the pain, but can Ash?

To distract her son from their depressing conversation, Delia guides them to the living room and turns on the television. Her eyes light up at the program that appears on the children's channel.

"Look, Ash," she points encouragingly. "Pokémon Adventures is on!"

Ash looks up from the carpet and smiles. The movement isn't as big as Delia has hoped, but it's still better than a frown. "I want to be the very best," the show's anthem sing, "like no one ever was!"

The series stars a young boy traveling a land to collect gym badges and compete against strong trainers in the Pokémon League. It is filled with excitement and suspense. No wonder Ash has become inspired. He can only watch someone his age have the time of his life so long until he yearns for one of his own.

In tonight's episode, the main character, Red, faces off against the last gym leader he has to defeat to complete his badge collection. The gym leader isn't like the ones he has faced before. This one is dark and ruthless. Only fifteen minutes have passed when Red's second to last pokémon collapses in exhaustion. It's usually at this point in the show when Ash gets so excited, he would scream at the television and demand Red and his pokémon to overcome their obstacles. Delia desperately anticipates it. Her son's face falls in discouragement, but there is no sign of determination changing his features.

"What if Dad," Ash speaks out, "doesn't want to come back because he still thinks I'm sick?"

Delia frowns. "That's not possible, Ash. Your development has made you well-known. There's no way he hasn't heard of you."

"But what if he didn't like what he heard?" Ash suggests. "I've stayed at home for twenty years, and when I finally go outside, I get sent back by a group of bad people."

Delia's mouth hangs open, but no words come out.

"What if being a robot isn't good enough for him?" Ash asks. "What if he still thinks I'm weak?"

Delia wants to say something, anything to comfort him. But his words strike a bad chord inside her. The growing anger she now feels for her husband renders her speechless. But Ash interprets her silence differently. He thinks that his mother is angry at _him_ , not with his father, and that she blames him for keeping their husband and father out of their lives.

"I'm sorry, Mom."

Delia freezes.

"It's my...f-fault Dad is still gone," tears stream down Ash's face. "It's...my fault!"

"Ash, no!" Delia automatically pulls her son into her arms. "Ash, no! No! This is _not_ your fault!"

"B-But," Ash hiccups, "you're m-mad at m-me."

"I'm not mad at you," she tells him. "I'm mad at your father! It doesn't matter _why_ he's still gone! The fact that he's gone at all is unacceptable! You deserve better than this, Ash! Ash. Ash, look at me."

Ash coughs as Delia cups his wet cheeks.

"This isn't your fault," she repeats softly. "It's not your fault. It never will be your fault. If anybody is to blame, it's your father. _He's_ the one that abandoned you, Ash. He's the one that let _you_ down."

Ash isn't able to speak. He can barely do anything with sobs racking his body. So his mother only pulls him closer to her, hoping her comfort would be enough to console her son.

But it isn't. As sad and increasingly angry Ash is at his dad, he still can't deny the desire for his father to love him. He has to prove his worth somehow.

That's when Ash looks back to the television. Red has won his battle. The trainer is waving his badge for all to see before he is congratulated by his friends and mentors. His theme song plays again at the end credits.

 _"I want to be the very best…"_

Ash's eyes widen. "...like...no one ever was."

~.~

Giovanni signs the last sheet in a thin folder before placing both on a pile of unsorted documents. He casts an upward glance to his desktop screen to check the time. 9 a.m.

The leader sighs and picks another folder to work on. As much as he loathes making up for postponed projects, he has to make an exception today. Agent 32 and her cohorts aren't going to get away with what they did. But if Giovanni were to execute his revenge, he has to make sure the hitmen he assigns won't turn their backs on him too. It has taken a while to scan through potential candidates. But after several hours of tedious background checks and analyses, he found the perfect duo to do the job.

Half an hour later, a knock is heard from his office door. Giovanni has no problem meeting his recruits in the headquarters, for the mission he has for them will be no secret. After a quick look at the hallway feed on his monitor, Giovanni drops his pen and eyes the entrance. "Enter."

The knob of the wooden door turns before a man and a woman sweep it out of vision. The woman has long golden hair tied in low pigtails, and the man has short green hair and brown eyes. Both are dressed in primarily black uniforms labeled with a large red "R".

"Agent 66 and Agent 69 reporting for duty, sir," the woman announces.

The man nods in affirmation.

"Come inside and close the door behind you," Giovanni gestures to the center of the room. The duo does so. "This mission is of utmost importance, and you are the only ones that are most qualified to do it. Failure will not be tolerated. If you do not come back with what I have asked, there will be consequences. You," he points at the woman. "What is your name?"

"Cassidy, sir," the woman replies.

"I've done some background-checking, Cassidy, and stumbled upon someone you might know," Giovanni turns to his monitor and searches for something in the system. Once he finds it, he turns the desktop so Cassidy can see the picture displaying on it. "Who is this woman?"

Cassidy's jaws clench. "My mother, sir."

"Do you love her?"

"Very much, sir."

"Good," Giovanni turns the desktop back to him. "You and your mother are very poor. One of the reasons you joined Team Rocket is to provide for her and yourself. Correct?"

It's the _only_ reason, Cassidy thinks. Nevertheless, she nods mutely.

Giovanni has expected much and turns to the male. "And you," he regards him. "What is your name?"

"Butch."

Giovanni does the same processes as he has with Cassidy and shows him a picture of Butch standing with a brown-haired woman and two boys no older than five and six. "This is your family," he states. "Your wife and sons."

"Yes, sir," Butch confirms.

"You must be so proud of yourself," Giovanni goes on, "to have two healthy sons and a loving wife to come home to."

Butch almost says yes, but detects malice, almost envy, in the older man's voice. This confuses him. Giovanni may not be married to Ariana, their second leader-in-command, but the mother of his son is loyal and faithful to him. Silver, the son himself, is in one of the most prestigious schools in Johto. Giovanni has everything. So why does he sound so bitter?

To move the conversation forward and hopefully change the subject, Butch stays silent. But Giovanni isn't appeased by this. Seeing a lowly grunt have everything he doesn't have fills him with enough anger to smash through his computer. But he doesn't. He doesn't show the agents their loved ones so they can rub them in his face. No. If Giovanni can't use love to gain happiness, then he'll use it to get something else instead.

"I recently discovered that not everyone is afraid of dying, not even if their death is painful," Giovanni tells them. " _Being alive_ is what's painful, and nothing hurts more than living without something you can't get back. So I've decided to change the conditions of these kinds of missions."

Cassidy and Butch watch intently as the leader types and clicks away in his computer. They don't know the turmoil the man is hiding behind his blank expression. But they do sense a newfound darkness in him, something that makes their stomachs turn.

"If you fail to give me back what I ask," Giovanni mutters, "I won't kill you."

He reveals his computer screen once more. This time, the pictures of Cassidy's mother and Butch's family are shown side by side on the monitor.

"I'll kill _them_."

The blood in both agents run cold. Their professional demeanors are gone now, replaced with expressions of terror and shock.

"Do I make myself clear?" Giovanni asks.

Cassidy and Butch share a worried look, trying to process the gravity of the situation. The both of them have been expecting another heist involving stealing and selling pokémon in the black market. What has changed to procure such high stakes?

But one thing is for sure: neither can allow their loved ones to die. So they turn back to their leader, who looks at them expectantly, and simultaneously reply, "Yes, sir."

"Good, Giovanni commends. He tilts the monitor to minimize their loved ones' pictures. What he reveals next is Jessie's Team Rocket ID picture with snapshots of James and Meowth at the bottom. "You may not recognize the man and meowth, but you recognize the woman. Correct?"

The agents nod slowly. Jessie has been a heated rival of Cassidy for years and has been no nicer to Butch. Cassidy and Butch have never cared for the woman, making them more curious as to what she has to do with the man that has threatened their families.

"She is a traitor to the organization," Giovanni explains. He does so with finality, indicating no sign of elaboration. "She and her cohorts have something that I want, something I prefer to see tied neatly in separate boxes."

"Would you like us to steal their pokémon, sir?" Butch inquires.

Giovanni doesn't just give them a negative; he shoots them a cold leer. "I don't want their worthless pokémon," he grits.

The leader raises something from behind his desk and places it on the wooden surface. Cassidy and Butch's eyes widen. It is a large box sealed with a lid.

"I want their heads."

~.~

"Goodness," Oak cringes.

"I know," his speaker replies.

Oak slides his coffee mug to the side before assessing the bandaged wound being displayed on his computer screen. Professor Frank Elm, the man possessing the injury, buttons his teal dress shirt before sighing onto his entwined fingers.

"That kid could jump," he comments through the video screen, "but at least he missed my heart."

"I've never heard anything like this happen in Johto before," Oak inputs. "And to you, out of all people. You're one of the kindest men I know."

"Thanks, Samuel," Elm gives his friend a small smile. "Now I'm just worried about the kid."

"You mean the kid that stabbed you?" Oak inches back. "But why would you worry about him? You of all people should know that he's more than capable of defending himself."

" _That's_ what worries me," Elm remarks, confusing him even more. "Children wouldn't need to worry about defending themselves if they were raised in a safe environment. That child would rather stab me and steal my pokémon than come back to get one with his parents. What if he is being abused at home?"

Oak hums lowly. "It's a possibility. Whatever the case, you and your scientists need to be prepared for anything. The kid could come back with friends."

Elm nods as if he has already done so. After all, as the lead scientist New Bark Town's laboratory, the forty-three-year-old professor cannot let anything happen to his research, employees, or the pokémon they care for. Most especially, the pokémon they care for. The scientist may focus on pokémon evolution, but how the creatures are raised are just as important to him. How will the totodile the redheaded thief has stolen grow up in the hands of such a dangerous individual?

"Anyway," Elm sighs, putting aside the depressing thought for now, "how about you, Samuel? How is your research with the androids progressing?"

"Scientifically wise, very well," Oak crosses his arms. "But the project has encountered many obstacles."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well, for one thing, I had to move the laboratory up to a tall hill to discourage the protesters and boost security," Oak replies grimly. "When Ash started to travel, all the threats I've been receiving have started coming to fruition. We've had graffiti on the walls, objects thrown through the windows, and attempts at arson."

Elm gapes. "You can't be serious."

"Oh, but I am," Oak's face falls onto his palm. "Money wasn't an issue, but the transferring process was a nightmare. The protesters were around the whole time, attacking the moving trucks and harassing the movers and scientists. Things got so out of hand, we had the police come over and arrest almost a hundred individuals."

"That's," Elm shakes his head, "that's just terrible."

"You should've heard them, Frank," Oak continues, "They were going on about robot uprisings and other such nonsense. Once someone brought up the _rights_ the androids may or may not possess, everything erupted into _chaos_. Now I don't just have scientific, medical, and mechanical concerns to worry about; I have _political_ issues to sort out as well."

"I'm sorry for your troubles," Elm laments.

"But I'm _still_ not done, Frank," Oak points. "When Ash started his journey, he had to be immediately sent back because he was possibly attacked by _Team Rocket_."

The spectacled professor pales, "Oh no, I've heard about that."

"The chief officer in Viridian City recognized the female of the group as a member of the mafia," Oak goes on. "My technician reports that she and her companions were trying to steal Ash's pikachu, but Ash picked up the woman talking about his father. So now, we think the attack was personal."

"Is Ash alright?" Elm asks.

"Fortunately, yes."

"Oh, that's good," Elm sighs, relieved to hear good news for once. "But something doesn't make sense. If the target was Ash, then why go after the pikachu? Does Ash's father want the pikachu?"

"Your guess is just as good as mine," Oak hums. "We only have two pieces to a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle. We're currently searching for the attackers, which may not go well considering Team Rocket's reputation of fleeing from the law. But I also have Ash and his mother to worry about."

"Oh no," Elm tenses. "What happened to them?"

"It's a personal matter," Oak answers. "Ash's father is a sensitive subject for the family. The man left as soon as he was born."

"I see," Elm sighs tiredly. "Another conflicted child. How saddening."

Oak sighs too. "It is," he concurs. "But it isn't like I knew what I was getting into."

"You can overcome this," his spectacled friend smiles. "I've known you since you mentored me at the university. You're not just a brilliant professor and scientist; you're also a brilliant man."

Elm's faith emanates from the Johto region to Kanto, bringing a wide grin across Oak's face.

"Thank you, Frank," Oak acknowledges. "You're a good friend."

~.~

Jessie swipes down on her tablet to continue reading a news article. Her face, as well as James's and Meowth's, are sketched and shared throughout almost every media outlet she can find. This doesn't surprise her that much. Her team has attacked the most famous and controversial subject in Kanto, maybe even the whole world. And with technology's advancement throughout almost every land and sea, it will be hard to find a place that won't recognize who they are.

Which means they're on their own.

"We shouldn't have attacked that kid," James grunts from the driver's seat of their car. He rakes through his long locks and thrums on the wheel. "We're almost out of gas, and every station we stop by keeps calling the cops on us. Should we just turn ourselves in?"

"No, you moron! You wanna get off'd in jail?" Meowth snaps.

His feisty personality is even feistier due to his hunger. The trio has yet to eat since they have escaped the Viridian police. The group has managed to drive to Route 4, almost a two-hour drive from Viridian City, before stopping at a hidden grove of a forest to sleep. None of them can rest soundly in fear that they will be assaulted in their slumber. It is about 9 a.m now, and their stomachs grumble from not being fed dinner nor breakfast.

"I can't believe we agreed to do this," Meowth continues. "Why didn't we just wreck the kid and move on with our lives? That damn Jessie and her semantics."

"Shut up, Meowth!" Jessie barks back with a sharp, warning voice. "We don't need your big mouth right now. If you say one more word, we'll eat _you_ for lunch!"

Meowth wouldn't have given up that easily, but Jessie pulls out her gun right then, silencing him.

"Ea-easy, guys," James waves with a free hand. "We're all just hungry and tired. "Why don't w—"

Everyone stiffens when the car trembles. The vehicle then starts to slow down, causing the cars behind them to honk in protest.

"Damn," James curses. "Damn! Damn! _Damn_!"

With no other choice, James drifts the car to the side of the road so the vehicle can stop completely. He doesn't need to look at the gas meter to know that the arrow is on "E". But Jessie and Meowth look, and he feels their anger spike again.

" _Damn it!_ " Meowth screeches. " _Now we're out of gas too?_ "

Jessie grunts and steps out of the vehicle. When she looks around, she sees a long stretch of asphalt surrounded by fields of dry grass. Cars zoom by them at speeds too fast to follow, strengthening her feeling of isolation.

"Now what?" James asks, stepping out of the car as well.

"Should we hitch a ride?" Meowth suggests.

"And risk giving away where we are? I don't think so," Jessie rejects. She takes another look around the area before looking ahead. "We should only be an hour or so away from Cerulean City."

"What are you _sayin'_?" Meowth screeched. "Are you saying we should _walk_ there?"

"Do we have a _choice_?" Jessie demands.

"You know, this wouldn't have happened if you just killed the kid!" Meowth repeats. "Why should we even keep listening to what you're saying? We can go off on our own; we don't need you! Right, James?"

"Please, guys, just calm down," James is almost pleading. "It's obvious that we're hungry and tired. We just need to stick together and—"

"Well what if getting rid of Jessie _is_ what we need?" Meowth remarks. "Why follow what she says when I'm the one makin' the plans and you're the one doin' all the work! She's _useless_ without us!"

"Shut _up_ , Meowth," Jessie warns.

"She's always thinkin' about herself! She never cares about us!" Meowth goes on regardless. "Heck, if her mother isn't dead, she wouldn't even be hanging out with us! She acts all tough, but in the end, she's just a scared, worthless little girl that will never get her mommy ba—"

James screams, but is unheard through the loud fire of Jessie's gun. He looks down in horror at Meowth, who is now laying on the dry soil, dead.

"N-No!" James falls to his knees and cups his mouth.

He pinches every part of his body to wake himself up, but he isn't dreaming. Meowth, one of his closest friends and companions, is gone. A bullet shot him between the eyes, staining his fur and coin red as blood pools around his body.

"Wh-Why?" James's wide green eyes leak with tears. He looks up at Jessie, who slowly returns her weapon to its holster. "Wh-Why did you do this, J-Jessie? Meowth was our _friend_!"

"Friends don't say things like that to each other," Jessie responds quietly. She has never taken a life so violently before, and is still a bit shaken by it. What has come over her? The agent has usually displayed more patience for Meowth's big mouth despite having a worse temper than him. But the fatigue has gotten to her too. She, as it turns out, just happens to be more reckless because of it.

But whatever remorse she feels quickly fades when she notices that the other cars have started to slow down. The faces in them are becoming discernible, and they all display the same emotions James is expressing: fear and disbelief.

"We have to get out of here," Jessie says.

Her last remaining friend glares at her but says nothing as he stands up. As angry and afraid as he is at her for killing Meowth, James doesn't want to lose the last person he has left. The trio isn't just a group of friends; it's a family. And family sticks together no matter what.

Jessie runs to the opposite direction. She glances to the side to make sure James is following her before picking up speed. The witnesses of her crime will in no doubt call the police as soon as they reach Cerulean City, so it won't be wise to head there. The farther they are from their abandoned car and friend, the better.

They've gone to the point of no return. The only direction to pick now is survival.

~.~

Ash block's out the world's noise with his headphones as he watches an episode of Pokémon Adventures on his tablet. He and his mother have to move out of their house because bad people are trying to destroy it; so while the adults are making appropriate arrangements to relocate them, he does what he has been asked and sits in the lounge of Professor Oak's lab. He is alone for about two hours (Pikachu is having a checkup at the pokémon center) until Gary walks into the room. The human boy's face contorts into annoyance first before switching to one of pride.

"What are you watching, loser?" he runs up to the couch Ash is sitting on.

The robot shoots him a glare before returning to his screen. "Leave me alone, Gary," he tells him. The boys used to be close friends back when Gary wasn't as insulting. But now that Gary practically bullies him on a daily basis, Ash isn't very pleased to see him.

Gary growls and snatches Ash's tablet.

"Hey!" Ash protests.

"I'm tired of people telling me to leave!" Gary screams. Then, before Ash can stop him, he smashes the tablet into the ground, shattering it.

Ash gasps and falls to pick it up. "No!" He shoots a glare at the bully, but the professor's grandson looks even more furious than he does.

"I wish you were dead!" he shouts. "I wish you would die so grandpa can love _me_ instead!"

The young boy shoves the android to the ground before running out of the lounge.

~.~

Jessie and James travel until they see what looks to be an old farmhouse. The entrance of the abode is a dusty screen door, which Jessie peers through before waving James to enter. The house will be their home until they find it necessary to move. Anyone who says otherwise will get shot.

"We can't stay too long," Jessie says as she scans the refrigerator. She frowns. It is almost empty. "That boy is Giovanni's son. He'll want us dead as soon as possible."

James's eyebrows furrow. "How do you know that robot is Giovanni's son?"

"Hospital records aren't that hard to get," Jessie informs. "The kid was born to Delia and Giovanni Ketchum. We may not know that Giovanni-bastard's last name, but it isn't hard to put two and two together."

"What if it's just a coincidence?"

"I've been in Team Rocket for years, James," she reminds. "I've worked with that creep long enough to know that he has his reasons. He didn't hire me to watch over someone else's son if the boy isn't his son too."

"I don't know," James lowers his head. "The man doesn't seem like he cares about the boy everyone is _certain_ is his son. Why care about the robot kid?"

"I don't know and I don't care," Jessie scoffs. "All I know is that he cares about that boy and that I wanted to hurt him as much as he had hurt me."

James silently absorbs her words. Then, when the memory of their deceased friend returns to his mind, he asks, "Do you regret it?"

Jessie sends him a glare. "Regret what?"

"Shooting Meowth," James struggles to say. " _Killing_ him."

Jessie grits her teeth. "Of course I do," she says. "I'm not a heartless maniac."

"So why did you do it?" James grunts. "Why did you kill him?"

Jessie's fists clench. "I don't know," she says. "Meowth just...kept going on and on and...then he called me out on my grief, and..and I just lost it and…"

Her next words seem to vanish into thin air. James's expression softens as he watches his companion stare into space. He barely sees this side of Jessie, the part of her that isn't trying hard to look tough or glamorous. How rare is it to see her so raw, open, and vulnerable.

Jessie snaps out of her reverie and looks up at James. He is standing before her now, smiling warmly. She narrows her eyes in confusion. What's there to smile about? Aren't they just discussing the murder of their friend? Why does he look like he has just won the lottery?

But as seconds go by, Jessie is finding herself not minding. James's stupid grin and the quiet of the house are giving her a sense of peace. Times like this are rare, especially now that so much has changed in a short amount of time. Jessie hasn't chosen the right decisions recently. But with a companion as loyal and as faithful as James, maybe she can—

Jessie gasps as blood splatters onto her face. She takes a quick glance at James's body, which is now lying face down on the floor, before drawing her gun. Her gun cocks to shoot who is responsible. But then she hears a click. Her entire body freezes except for her head, which turns to see Butch pointing a gun at her skull.

"Sorry about your friend," a woman opens the screen door and walks in. She looks down in disgust at James, who has blood oozing from his brain, before pointing a gun at Jessie's face. "I won't be much with you, though."

Jessie's teeth grind as tears border her eyes. She has felt something close to animosity to the blonde woman standing before her. Now she feels unfathomable rage. Rage so fierce, she can barely breathe.

"Oh come on, Jessie," Cassidy goads. "This is usually when you try to talk me down or threaten to hurt me."

"I'm not going to give you that satisfaction," Jessie lowers her weapon. "You've gone too far this time."

"This isn't one of the diabolical pranks we throw at each other," Cassidy clarifies. "Giovanni's orders. He threatened to kill our families if we don't do this."

Jessie's eyes widen.

"I don't want to lose my mom, Jessie," Cassidy confesses. "You, out of all people, know how hard it is to live without her mother."

Jessie automatically raises her gun. But as soon as she does so, Cassidy shoots hers, causing blood to shoot from Jessie's forehead. She falls onto the ground with a thump, her corpse landing on top of James's.

"That was easy," Butch leaves the house and returns with two boxes.

"It always is with a hothead like her," Cassidy accepts the containers from him. "Hand me the scissors too, Butch. I've always wanted to cut that ridiculous hair of hers."

~.~

Ash is angry at Gary but is more paralyzed with shock to do more than sit up from the carpet. He stares helplessly at the broken tablet until Oak and Delia rush into the room. Delia helps her son sit back up on the couch as Oak picks up the device.

"The staff told us that they heard screaming in here," Oak says. "Are you alright, Ash?"

"Y-Yeah," Ash answers. He avoids eye contact with Delia as the mother scrutinizes the tablet. He expects her to scold him, but she soothingly rubs his back instead.

"Are you sure?" Delia asks. "You weren't hurt in any way?"

"No," Ash shakes his head. "You're," he glances at the tablet, "you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"Because Gary took the tablet from me and broke it."

Oak clicks his tongue and shakes his head at the hallway. "That Gary," he mutters. "I'll have a talk with him later."

"But if Gary is the one that broke the tablet, Ash, why are you blaming yourself?" Delia inquires.

Ash shrugs, and Delia pulls him to her shoulder.

"You can watch television at my wing later," Oak resolves. "But right now, we have a little surgery we need to perform on you."

"Surgery?" Ash looks up. "For what?"

"A colleague of mine has been working on a cooling system and sent her most successful prototype to me," Oak answers. "If things go well, it could fix that overheating problem you've had yesterday."

Ash's eyes widen in delight.

"But before we go through this surgery, Ash," Delia pulls back to look at him, "I'd like to ask you...would you like to forget our conversation from yesterday?"

"You mean," Ash stiffens, "about Dad?"

Delia nods.

"N-No," Ash shakes his head. "I can handle it."

"Are you sure?" Delia cups his face. She remembers her discussion with Ben after Ash's session and adds, "You don't have to remember it, you know. You don't have to go through the...the pain."

Ash frowns and looks at the broken device. "I don't want to forget Dad," he tells her. "I want him to come home."

"That's easier said than done, Ash," Oak interjects. "No one has heard about your father in years. We don't even know where he is."

"But he knows where _I_ am," Ash remarks. "And...and when he sees what I'm going to do, he's going to _want_ to come home."

Delia narrows her eyes. "What are you going to do, Ash?" she asks.

Ash looks up at her and grins. "I'm going to be a pokémon master!"

Delia and Oak inch back.

"A pokémon master?" the professor repeats.

"Like Red?" Delia asks.

"Yeah!" Ash confirms.

"But why?" Delia asks. "You'd have to challenge gyms and battle strong trainers, and that's not as easy as it looks on TV."

"But that's why I have to do it," Ash tells her. "Dad is still out there because he thinks I'm still sick. But if I become a pokémon master, then he'll know that I'm not weak anymore and be proud of me and _come home_!"

Delia freezes, her hand falling on his shoulder.

"It sounds like a good proposition."

The mother and son turn to Oak, who is nodding in approval.

"The only way Ash can improve as a living being is to discover his weaknesses and fix them," Oak tells them. "A journey to greatness can only make a person stronger. If Ash accomplishes his goal, then not only will his father have faith in him, but so will the rest of the world."

Delia bites her lip. "But he won't be safe out there," she points out. "Remember what happened just yesterday?"

"He won't be safe here either," Oak remarks. "The protesters have gotten violent enough to drive you two out of your house. If we really want Ash to be safe, then he has to travel and get stronger so he can defend himself. He has no better chance of doing so than becoming a pokémon trainer."

Delia's lips press together as she turns to her son. The robot is beaming at her now, displaying more hope and excitement than she has seen since his return. She doesn't want to part with him again. The pain has been great enough when Ash left her the first time. But Oak is right. Ash isn't safe at home with his mother anymore. If she wants him to live a long healthy life even after she is no longer around to take care of him, she has to let him go. It's the only way he can grow and be happy.

"Alright," the mother nods, cupping her son's face before forcing a smile. The smile won't last for long, however, so she pulls her son back into her arms to hide her quivering lips.

~.~

Two knocks hit the wooden door of Giovanni's office before three men enter with a box on each person. Giovanni motions them to place the containers on a long table and smirks. The boxes he has granted to the blonde and bush are dirtier than they were this morning. Now to see if they're dirtier inside.

The leader stands before the boxes and removes their lids slowly. He does so to build tension, which multiplies the satisfaction resulting from each reveal. The agents have _definitely_ completed their mission, Giovanni's smirk widens. He will be sure to use their services again soon.

But before the mafia boss can call back the agents stationed outside the homes of Cassidy and Butch's loved ones, the phone from his desk begins to ring. He approaches the device and picks up the receiver. The caller ID reads "Fuji".

"What do you want, Fuji?" Giovanni demands.

" _The arrangements have been finalized, sir,"_ the scientist responds from the other line. " _We are scheduled to transport the subject this Thursday."_

"Excellent," Giovanni sneers. "The island will be clear?"

" _The island will be clear."_

The organization leader chuckles in approval. After two decades of disappointment, things are finally starting to go his way. So much has been accomplished in a day. Who knows what will happen in _two_?

"Make sure nothing goes wrong until then," Giovanni orders. "Tell your staff to mark it in their calendars if you have to. February 6, Cinnabar Island."


	6. Episode 05: Turn

I apologize if the chapter has arrived later than expected. I've fallen behind on a lot of things lately, but I'm finally caught up and ready to move on. Thanks to Snark Knight for helping me edit this episode.

Songs for Inspiration:  
"Paranoia | Piano" by Lucas King  
"Dark Piano - Hate" by Lucas King  
"Sad Piano Music - Bad News" by Lucas King  
"Sad Piano Music - Gone" by Lucas King

* * *

The university's administration has permitted Oak to lecture in the main auditorium today. Fortunately so, because as soon as people learn that the professor's space has been expanded, much more arrive to hear him speak. It takes almost two hours for everyone to find a seat or stand against the walls. Once things have settled down, Oak stands at the podium in the middle of the stage and greets them.

"Hello, everyone, and welcome to my lecture. I'm glad that you all came to hear today's lesson about robots. But if we were to be frank, I'm sure you've only come to hear about one: Ash Ketchum."

The auditorium bursts into a sea of conversation. Some people discuss amongst themselves while many raise their hands and shout out their questions. Oak can't say he hasn't seen this coming. Two days have passed since Jessie and her friends have forced Ash to go back home. He and Delia have pleaded the police to share as little as possible. No one else knows that the assailants are affiliated with Team Rocket and that the attack may be linked to Ash's father. Oak has hoped that a little secrecy would dissuade people's interests.

He should have hoped differently.

Almost everyone in the auditorium is demanding for the truth. Not only are students, faculty, and guests occupying the large expanse, but persistent reporters too. Some have gotten so rowdy, they have to be escorted out of the room by security. Much enforcement remains after that, ready to take away more people.

Everyone in the auditorium eventually settles down, mostly to wonder why the professor hasn't hushed them himself. Oak knows that they have only become quiet to hear his input. Knowledge is power, he remembers, but can also be a weapon against him if he doesn't share it carefully. He has to word his response wisely. What happens after all of them leave the auditorium falls upon his shoulders.

"I am only here to share, discuss, and educate on matters of robotic engineering," Oak declares to the attentive crowd. "If you'd like to know more about Ash, I can only answer questions regarding his life as an android."

The crowd gives a more reactive response. Everyone is louder, more incomprehensible, and even hostile enough to summon the guards again. Oak feels fear fill his being but doesn't let it show. Doing so will be equivalent to jumping into a pool of sharpedo while coated in blood.

Almost thirty minutes have passed until what seems like the sensible ones remain in the hall. One person in the fourth row from the stage meekly asks about Ash's energy source. When Oak answers his polite question, everyone else offers their inquiries just as tamely. Oak has answered so many, he half-jokingly requests for water and a chair. He has hoped this would insinuate a break or an end to the lecture. Instead, a staff member delivers to him what he has asked and urges him to continue. Oak sighs, thanks the colleague, and returns to his discussion.

Students, teachers, visitors, and even fellow faculty come forward to satisfy their curiosities. Some have interesting questions; some cause eye rolls from those who believe they know better. But it is from a young student that a question changes Oak forever.

"Do the androids know the difference between good and evil?"

Oak blinks as if the question confounds him. He often deals with morality and ethics in his project to basically become God, but not once has he ever taken the time to consider them. All he has been focused on is showing the world that his mission isn't just harmless; it's beneficial to everything that lives and breathes. He hasn't considered the possibility that his machines will turn against him. If androids do possess the ability to make their own decisions, will those decisions always be right?

With a regained sense of humility, Oak responds, "A better question is, do we?" Only the student that has questioned him waits until he adds, "If we ourselves don't know what is good and evil, then how can our creations?"

The crowd whispers amongst themselves. Some comment negatively on Oak's response. Some, like the student, become quiet in contemplation. The matter of life and death will lose relevance at the rate Oak is going. Machines aren't dead nor alive. They don't need to think nor feel either. Without emotion nor life to create a direction, will good and evil still exist? If so, will they be choices or built into robotic systems?

Oak contemplates this too as more hands raise into the air. As he has promised to Delia, he has strived to make Ash as human as possible. If he can give the boy enough humanity to know the difference between good and evil, will Ash, after everything he has been through, choose to do good?

Perhaps he can influence this, Oak then thinks. If he and Delia are to guide Ash toward good, can Ash be influenced to such a choice like a real human can?

There is only one way to find out.

~.~

Silver crushes every branch and bush in his way as he continues to move. Police sirens are wailing at his back. He can't stop running now, not when he is so close to what he wants.

He feels warm liquid pooling into one of his pockets. It doesn't take him long to realize that it's the blood of the scientist he has stabbed. He briefly wonders how he will explain this to his caretaker, Al. Then he brushes away the thought when he realizes that the guardian won't care. Al beats him on a regular basis but always below the head so the injuries can be covered by clothing. Silver doesn't mind concealing this. His parents already think he's weak. If they see his wounds and how pathetic he is for not being able to defend himself, then he will never get their respect.

"I'm going to show them," the boy mutters to himself. "I'm going to show them."

As soon as he reaches the grounds of a one-story house, Silver dashes toward a large tree at its east and squeezes into the trunk's crack. The space within is often used to hide from Al and the bullies at school. It's getting too small for Silver, though. He will have to find a new haven soon.

But for now, the redhead struggles until his body slams onto the back of the trunk. He then yanks his mask off and peers through the crack. Two police cars are parking in front of the house. An officer emerges from each vehicle and knocks on the front door. After a couple raps hit the wood, a burly man with a buzz cut steps onto the porch.

The burly man, Al, listens to the police describe their target. He then shoots them a befuddled look before nonchalantly shooing them away. He has probably promised the officers that he will call them if he sees who they're looking for, but Silver knows better. With the drugs his babysitter is regularly dealing, the cops are the last people Al would want to speak with.

Soon enough, the officers return to their cars and drive off to other houses. But Silver remains where he is. If Al has guessed that it is him that has stolen from the pokémon lab, how would he react? The man has beaten the boy for petty reasons, sometimes for no reason at all. What would he do if he gains this particular motive?

Silver's fear paralyzes him, but he knows he has to come out soon. If he returns at the house too late, then he will greatly suffer for it.

He squeezes out of the tree and runs deeper into the woods. As soon as he decides that he is far enough, he unpockets the stolen poké ball and releases the creature inside. He doesn't know what he has taken, and it scares and excites him at the same time. Will the pokémon be competent enough to fight for him, or will it be another victim? The anticipation builds until the creature materializes onto the soil. Sharp, pointy ridges; scaly, teal skin; long, countless teeth. Silver recognizes it immediately.

A totodile.

Totodile scans his surroundings in confusion before looking up at Silver. His eyes narrow. He isn't in the pokémon lab. Where are Professor Elm and his associates? Where are his pokémon playmates and fresh meat ready to eat? More importantly, who is this redheaded kid towering over him?

"My name is Silver, and I am your master now," Silver crosses his arms. "You do what I say, and I won't hurt you."

Totodile growls and does what he does best: bite. He opens his jaws and snaps it right into Silver's calf. Silver happens to be very sore on that part of his body, so he yelps in pain and kicks Totodile onto a tree. The creature releases him then and glares at him. Then, to Silver's horror, runs away.

"Wait!" Silver goes after him. "Come back!"

But the big-jawed pokémon is too fast, and Silver isn't just tired from his previous sprint, he is shouldering a fresh wound that is most likely bleeding. He collapses onto the dry soil in fatigue and watches the pokémon run. His chance for redemption, maybe even survival, gone.

"Damn it," Silver curses.

He lies on the ground for a while, still, gazing at nothing in particular. The caws of bird pokémon echo the air as the sun cast shadows onto his form. Silver doesn't know what does it. Perhaps it's his drowsiness from lack of sleep. Perhaps it's his hunger from having his lunch stolen at school. Perhaps it's his weakness from his untreated injuries taking a toll on his body. Perhaps it's his hopelessness from watching what's supposed to be his salvation attack and flee from him. Perhaps it's all of the above. Silver doesn't know what does him in, what causes him to break. But his body doesn't need a reason to act on its own.

The redhead curls into a ball, tucks his head between his knees, and cries.

~.~

Misty tugs the hem of her shorts as she follows the staff member guiding her inside Oak's laboratory. She hasn't spoken to the professor and scientist since she, Oak, and Brock shared a nice dinner to clear the air and get to know one another. The trio left on a good enough note, so their encounter isn't why Misty has been and still is nervous. She isn't worried about herself, however.

She's worried about Ash.

Before she met the android, Misty has believed that Ash is deeply in touch with his robotic side—that he won't feel feelings nor can be mentally conflicted as she can. But the professor has made the boy more human than she thought. When she speaks to Ash, it doesn't feel like she's talking to a robot. It feels like she's talking to another child. She almost believes that Ash will grow up to be an adult someday. But after Oak reveals that Ash has been ten-years-old for twenty years, she is stricken by both joy and sorrow. Joy because Ash will never lose the innocence and carefreeness that makes him a child. Sorrow because if Ash decides to keep all of the memories he gains over his lifetime, he will never mature to cope and learn from them. He will be a traumatized child forever, just as another kid that has lost his mortality would. Unless, of course, he resigns his goal to be human and utilizes his robot self to delete his pain.

Speaking of pain, Ash and his mother have recently been terrorized out of their homes. Misty has called Oak's lab to ensure that he is safe. But even after Oak himself assures that Ash is fine, Misty's nerves have yet to settle. If the authorities haven't intervened two days ago, then everyone would have been killed by Jessie and her group. Now, not even a day has passed, Ash is being assaulted again. It's like death is vengeful from the boy's escape and is actively hunting him down. Misty wants to protect him, but how? What power does she have to stop an unnatural boy from nature itself?

All these run through the viridian-eyed girl's mind as she enters Oak's office. The only reason she recollects why she's there is that Oak wants to speak to her about Ash. She will do anything for Ash, even if she has only known him for a day and hasn't talked to him since. There is very little she knows on what to do about her sudden attachment to the android. The only thing that makes sense right now is to speak about him with the man that has brought him to life.

"Thank you for coming over, Misty," Oak greets as they sit down. "I hope the traffic wasn't too bad."

"It was okay," Misty mutters. Then, almost immediately after her comment, asks, "Is Ash okay?"

"He's...coping the best he can," Oak replies, noting her sudden eagerness. "But he can do better."

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Well," Oak entwines his fingers, "there is one thing. You said you are training to be a gym leader, yes?"

Misty blinks. "Umm, yes?"

"And that you enjoy battling as one but dislike being surrounded by your unsupportive family?"

Misty frowns and looks down. "Yes."

"What if I offer you a chance to apply what you have learned toward a greater cause?" Oak suggests.

The human child gasps. "What do you mean?"

Oak takes a breath through his nostrils and looks out of his office window. "Ash has recently proposed that he travel the region challenging pokémon gyms," he informs, dismissing Misty's expressive reaction. "I highly agreed not only because can he gather more data for my research but also because he can become strong enough to defend himself. I'm sure you remember the attacks on Ash and his mother just yesterday."

Misty's lips purse. "I do."

"Ash isn't safe in Pallet anymore," Oak tells her. "Traveling the world isn't just a desire now but a necessity. If he gets stronger on the way by collecting badges, then not only will he fulfill his dreams, his victories might show the world that he is no different from them. Maybe then will the fears and attacks stop, and many others can safely live as he does."

Misty smiles and almost wipes away tears. From everything that has happened to Ash so far, it feels good to hear hope for once. What feels even better is that her presence in Oak's office means she can contribute to Ash's happy ending. "What do you need me to do?"

"I want you to travel with Ash," Oak offers. "I want you to guide him in his quest to battle gyms and support him when he encounters both victories and failures."

Misty sits at the edge of her seat. "R-Really?" she asks. "You...You want me to travel with Ash?"

Oak simpers, delighted by her eagerness to assist who is almost a son to him. "I do," he confirms. "You are a brave, intelligent, strong, and kind young girl, Misty; and you've done more than enough to help Ash in just the short time you two have known each other. I believe you can provide the care and support Ash needs out there that Delia and I can't provide from Pallet. But I don't want you to feel obligated to do this, Misty. I only want you to accept this job if you truly want to."

"I do," Misty sits upright. "I'll do it; I'll travel with Ash."

The professor blinks. "Are you sure? Do you not want to have time to think about this bef—"

"I've wanted to help Ash since the moment I met him and have been worried about him since," Misty states. She then realizes her boldness and clears her throat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound so forward. I just...really want to help Ash. I want to do anything I can to help him."

Oak blinks again and eyes the girl curiously. How peculiar is it to see this young gym student so attached to Ash so soon. Perhaps it isn't so strange considering how common and easy it is for young girls to connect to boys they are infatuated with. And from what Oak has observed so far, Misty is definitely infatuated with Ash. Then again, helping Ash can also be a way for Misty to prove herself to her family. After all, the orange-haired maiden has also displayed dissatisfaction for her family's lack of faith in her. Perhaps the determination Oak is seeing in her eyes is nothing but that. Determination.

"But wait," Misty halts. "Isn't Brock a gym leader too? Don't get me wrong; I still want to go. I just don't know how I'll help Ash train if Brock is already there for him."

"Brock will be focused on taking care of Ash and studying the constantly-updating information about his upgrades and maintenance," Oak answers. "He will also be looking after you and Pikachu, so everyone is taken care of. Everyone has a part in this group. Pikachu will be supplying Ash power; Brock will act as a kind of medic; and you will provide the knowledge and strength that Ash needs to survive and fight. I will supply advanced equipment that will aid you in your travels. Delia, of course, will contribute what she can as a mother from here in Pallet. She has the hardest role out of all of us, if you ask me. She's very brave for allowing Ash to leave her again."

Misty nods mutely. "I understand."

"I'm glad you do," Oak smiles. "Thank you again for agreeing to help us."

Misty looks up and smiles as well. "Anything for Ash."

Oak's grin widens. Misty has agreed to assist Ash in his journey. If her parents refuse to let her go, then Oak will step in and try to convince them otherwise. Misty is everything he has described her to be; but most importantly, she is what he needs her to be: good. If she can provide the goodness Ash needs to live in this cruel world and remain a good person, then no one will have to worry about him turning to evil. Ash will have everything he needs to be happy. If the world sees this, then everyone else will too.

The professor leans over to shake Misty's hand, welcomes her to the team, and lays out her employment documents.

~.~

Fuji sits back as his colleagues scatter toward their rejuvenation spots. He remembers faintly what his wife used to tell him: never have your breaks in the same place you work. He almost does just that to honor her memory. Then he remembers what else he has lost since she has died, and he resigns himself to stay.

He unpockets his smartphone and activates the lock screen. Behind the transparent number pad is a picture of him, his wife, and his child. The family has just finished exploring a museum when the picture is taken. It has happened in the day Fuji's wife, Francesca, manages to convince her husband to take a day off from work. Fuji has never admitted it, but despite his constant protests, spending that time with his family is the best decision he has ever made. It has reminded him of the life outside of numbers and science, the life that doesn't always make sense but leads to unspeakable bliss. How he wishes to experience that joy again. Without it, his work is a prison. A prison he has learned to love just to cope with it.

The scientist quivers at the little arms wrapped around his younger torso. Amber. She was such a delightful girl. So lively and bursting with life. Then a disease turns her body against itself, and Fuji has found his daughter inside not a pillow fort but a casket. Despite the overwhelming sorrow that followed after, Fuji barely remembers that day. It had seemed unnecessary. After all, his daughter isn't going to stay dead forever. It doesn't matter how long it takes; Fuji is going to get her back to life.

But that's when he starts to lose Francesca. The grieving woman has needed her husband to be there for her, but Fuji instead distances himself into his lab to fulfill his mission. The scientist barely returns home during this period. When he does return one day, he discovers his wife hanging from their bedroom ceiling, a makeshift noose around her neck.

"I'm sorry, Francesca," Fuji whispers, his voice cracking just above his goatee. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I really did."

He lowers his phone onto his lap and scans the computers around him. The systems have fallen asleep, temporarily disabled from their period of negligence. Fuji has dedicated much of his life to make the most of these machines. They aren't just a source of his livelihood; they are also integral to reviving his daughter and wife.

But when the scientist looks at his family again, he gains a strange thought. What if resurrecting them isn't the answer? What if it's best to leave them in the past, where the only thing that can touch them is the happiness of their moment?

His phone goes to sleep by the time another scientist re-enters the room. She returns to her desk with a protein bar and gets straight to work. She and Fuji know that everyone is discouraged from working during breaks, but Fuji would be a hypocrite if he points that out. So he instead remains in his seat, watching her remind him of himself and what their work is leading them to.

What _is_ it leading them to?

Fuji logs back onto his computer and studies the documents regarding Subject Ninety-Six—or "Mewtwo", as one colleague playfully suggested. Some scientists have made that the entity's official title to make their work more meaningful. As much as Fuji has tried to maintain an emotional distance from the project, he cannot help but share the same bond with the creature. Out of all the subjects that have undergone their cruel experiments, Subject Ninety-Six is the one that has survived to be stronger than ever. Who _cannot_ be proud of that?

But the connection is getting much deeper than that. Fuji and his associates have created the entity together. Subject Ninety-Six isn't just a project anymore; it's their child. And the more Fuji realizes this, the sicker he feels. In just one more day, Subject Ninety-Six will be born. Not as a child that Fuji and the scientists can love and raise, but as a weapon. That is the main reason Giovanni has hired them to work for him in the first place. Mewtwo will be the most powerful pokémon ever created. It won't have the capacity to love and be loved. It will only destroy everything in its path and become the villain everyone will strive to defeat. It isn't and never will be its choice. It is its purpose, its destiny.

Fuji and his associates have been promised to share the glory. They provide Giovanni their services and in return, they gain the world. Fuji has accepted because Giovanni's vision supports his goal. Maybe it's his connection to Mewtwo that has changed his mind; perhaps it's the time he has spent trapped in the walls of grief. Either way, he will not allow Mewtwo to be a weapon. He will not use his creation, his child, to ruin the lives of others. If his suffering has caused him to make the wrong decisions, then how much more will the suffering of millions of others that will lose their loved ones the same way he did?

"I don't care if Giovanni kills me," Fuji grits, squeezing his phone hard enough to reactivate his lock screen. "I wasn't able to save Amber and Francesca, but I will save you."

His eyes squeeze shut.

"Mewtwo."

~.~

Totodile sniffs and crawls through every patch of grass and dirt, but food has yet to come around. He can travel until he finds a large body of water. Then again, there is one place he knows the exact location of, and it is much closer than whatever lake or river that may not be nearby.

Filled with determination and hunger, Totodile heads toward the setting sun. He can still remember his encounter with Silver. The bratty kid has a lot of nerve to not only take him away from caring, loving people but also expecting him to fight against his will. Silver has no idea how lucky he is that the pokémon has not taken his head between the creature's massive jaws. But now that the young pokémon is hungry and desperate, that luck may not come around again.

The sun has just disappeared when Totodile set foot upon the turf in front of the one-story house. His snout raises and sniffs for any traces of food. If he can smell food, then he can surely find a window or a small door leading to a kitchen. After a few more sniffs, Totodile's eyes lighten. Meat.

Totodile growls in anticipation as he sprints toward the right side of the house. There is a window up ahead with a thick bush right below it. If Totodile times his movements right, he can hop onto the leafage and lift the hatch. He can only hope that the window isn't locked shut. Then again, if it is, he'll just break it open, snatch the food, and escape. It's probably how he is taken from the lab, after all.

But when he jumps on top of the bush and peers through the window, the kitchen he sees isn't empty. Silver is in there along with a tall man and a drowsee. The glass barrier is thin but doesn't have to be for Totodile to realize what is happening.

"You actually left school again?" the man demands. He has sand-colored hair, red eyes, and a bat. "You, pathetic piece of garbage. You didn't think I'd find out?"

Then, before Silver can answer, the man swings the bat onto the child's stomach. Silver groans and tries to get up, but the man rams him back down with a strike to his knees.

Totodile watches in horror as the man continues to beat Silver onto the tiles. Silver tries to get up when the man takes a break. But then the man commands something to the drowsee. Within seconds, the psychic pins Silver back down; and the man both celebrates and punishes his attempt to escape by striking the boy in the chest.

"Cry out for your mommy," he taunts. "Or better yet, your _daddy_."

Silver gasps in pain only to be silenced when hit in the stomach.

"Let them see how weak you are," the man continues. "And then watch them walk away as you _die_."

Silver yelps when the adult kicks him in the chest. The drowsee finally releases him then, allowing him to writhe in agony. His assaulters leave him alone when the pain knocks him unconscious. As he lies on the kitchen floor, saliva trickling from his mouth, the water pokémon that has witnessed his suffering does something he never thinks he'll ever do.

He pities the boy.

~.~

When Silver exits through his school gates the next day, his ear is shot by a sharp rock. He hisses and covers the offended area. Then he spots a small paw poking through a bush. A very familiar paw.

Silver seethes, " _You_."

The boy immediately rushes toward the pokémon in hiding. Many students block his path, so he leaves behind a trail of screams and protests as he shoves them out of his way. He has been beaten almost to death to steal that big-jawed pest. Not only has the creature fled from him, but he also has the audacity to taunt him right after the boy has suffered another beating from his classmates. There is only so much the redheaded child can take. After what he has gone through, that Totodile will not be coming out alive.

Silver runs through a seemingly endless grove of trees until he finds the totodile hopping in the middle of the clearing. He dashes toward the creature with a fist raised. Then, before he can land a punch, Totodile jumps out of the way and lets him land face first onto the grass.

"Rile!" the pokémon lands beside his head. He then helps the boy sit up and pats the dirt off of his shirt. "Ro!"

Silver stiffens and leers at him. "What are you doing?"

"Ra! Ra!"

" _What_?"

Totodile hops and hooks the air with his fists. Silver is about to demand what in the world he is doing. But then the creature points toward the direction of his house and throws a downward jab to the ground.

"Are you," Silver narrows his eyes, "are you saying you want to hurt them?"

Totodile nods and hooks the air once more.

"Then what are we waiting for?" Silver demands. "Let's hurt them now!"

Totodile abruptly stops and shakes his head. "Ngah!" he rejects. He then points to Silver and resumes his hooks.

"Are you saying I should train you first?" Silver guesses.

Totodile shakes his head again, only more firmly. He points to himself, to Silver, back to himself, and then Silver again.

Silver gapes. "Are you saying I should train myself too?"

Totodile brightens and nods.

"But I'm a human," the boy shifts uncomfortably. "How am I supposed to train myself?"

That's when Totodile's expression darkens. A sneer spreads across his face, displaying two rows of long, sharp teeth.

He lunges.


	7. Episode 06: The Third Son

Yes! The long awaited episode is here! Thanks to Snark Knight for editing this for me. And thank _you_ for also sharing your thoughts in the reviews! It helps me know whether the story is going in the right direction or not. So far, gauging from your current responses, things are going well.

Note that due to my changing writing style, episodes may be written differently from here on out. There may be more words in each chapter; the pacing may slow down to make the narrative more immersive, etc. Of course, let me know what you think, and I'll proceed accordingly. Communication is key.

Enjoy!

Songs that Set the Mood:  
"Isolation" by Lucas King  
"Hurt" by Lucas King  
"Nocturnus" by Adrian von Ziegler  
"Cold" by Jorge Méndez  
"A Winter's Wish" by Harrys Cupboard Music  
"Nails and Bones" by Adrian von Ziegler  
"Battleborne" by Two Steps from Hell  
"Going Hollow" by Lucas King  
"Challenge of the Dead" by Adrian von Ziegler  
"Black Blade" (Instrumental) by Two Steps from Hell

* * *

Fuji inhales the mist emanating from his hot black coffee and sighs. Today is the day— the day they have all been waiting for.

The scientist runs a shaky hand through his hair and gazes at the creature floating in the cylinder before him. The cylinder itself stands at the far end of the large chamber, filled with the same green essence that has provided its host nutrition, protection, and extraction from anything the subject needs to extirpate. The encasement is no longer in Team Rocket's laboratory but in a mansion on a secluded island called Cinnabar. The landmark is the perfect location to give birth to the mafia's latest creation. There are no human residents, and the indigenous wildlife has been sold or purged. Best of all, there is a tall, active volcano that is considered too dangerous to establish a civilization around it, ready to wipe clean any trace of the events that will transpire on the island should anything go awry.

This is thanks to the project's lead scientist. Fuji is the one that has arranged the mansion's construction as a clever disguise from nosy satellites. He is also the one who has discovered the island in the first place, as well as the potential it holds to host their propitious mission. Fuji's brilliant judgments have brought promise and confidence to himself and his colleagues when the seeds of their success have just been planted. But things have changed since then. The scientist is no longer blinded by his goals to reclaim what he had lost in the past. He clearly sees what his selfish desires have placed upon the earth. Mewtwo will be born today; but if Giovanni gets his hands on it, so will the end of the world.

Fuji places his mug on a nearby desk. He doesn't need the caffeine as he had thought he would nor the warmth from the chilly, early morning air; his fears and remorse have been keeping him awake since he had realized the futility of his attempts to sleep. He looks out of the windows, the lit fluorescent lights, the cylinder of his child—anything that could inspire a solution to his plight. He isn't as acute as he has hoped, he eventually realizes when his bottom hits the edge of a desk. His disquiet is exhausting him, both physically and mentally. There is no doubt that his weakened state will eventually fall victim to a debilitating illness. He should have taken better care of himself. Eaten dinner the night before, at the very least. Alas, nothing seems to matter when the world is going to end in just a few hours.

Where had his determination gone? Fuji had been courageous upon first deciding to spare Mewtwo from its fate, even more so when he had paddled through the moon's vicious tides, shut down the island's security measures, and slipped into the facility in just three hours before the rest of the staff would arrive. But the longer he stays in that hidden basement of the mansion, the deeper his fears engulf him. He isn't the first to dissent against the mafia's project. He knows because he had known the objectors before Giovanni killed them. If he does succeed in freeing Mewtwo from their leader's evil objectives, what will happen to him? What will happen to his child? Surely, Mewtwo will be strong enough to defend itself, but would it protect its creator too? Fuji may have good intentions for his child now, but he is also responsible for the entity's tribulations. What if Mewtwo doesn't forgive him for the cruel experiments? What if it begins its reign of destruction by paying him back for the pain he had caused to not just it, but the deceased subjects before it?

Fuji takes a sharp breath and turns to his subject. Mewtwo is still floating in that glass tube, unaware of the chaos the world is only waiting to deliver it. How will it react, Fuji wonders, when it realizes that its birth will be a new period of suffering? That it will never have a moment of peace, that everyone and everything will die at its hand before it can receive the love it deserves? Would it even know if someone cares about it, or will it be so deep under Giovanni's control that it will only identify itself as a loveless weapon?

The scientist's fists clench. He knows what to do now.

His mind and body move automatically—pressing, pulling, and twisting until all of the bars in the screens around him reach for the ceiling. The green essence spirals into a drain at the bottom of the cylinder, allowing the host's body to fall and curl onto the case's flat surface. The creature wraps its arms around itself and shakes violently. The biting night air assaults it from all directions, increasing its shivers more and more.

Fuji mutters a string of curses and quickly removes his jacket. He searches the walls for a faded yellow button and then smashes the knob when he finds it behind the cylinder. The encasement screeches—its red lights above flashing as if in pain—and then hisses as its walls rise. Fuji's knees hit the floor as tears gather behind his glasses. He catches his child before it could hit the floor, wraps it in his coat, and then squeezes it tightly.

"Mewtwo," he mutters.

He takes a sharp, dry breath as Mewtwo's form fits almost perfectly against his. But its head is barely resting on his shoulder, unsure whether to be so vulnerable in the arms of the man who has brought it nothing but pain. Fuji curses to himself and rubs Mewtwo's skin, smoothing its hairless head and arms and wiping off the green liquid which is only making it cold now. But it doesn't soothe the creature. Mewtwo eventually stops shivering but remains tense within his hold. And for good reason. It had suffered much worse before it was even born. What pain is in store for it now?

"I'm sorry, Mewtwo," Fuji whimpers. "I was a selfish, foolish man who thought I could bring my past into my present. But all I did was ruin your future. If I had realized my error sooner, things could've been different. You could have been safe…and happy."

He hugs his child more firmly and stares at the wall ahead of him. If he isn't so afraid of what would happen to his creation, he would have been happy it is born at all. How many years has he worked to bring this wonderful entity into existence? How many years has he hoped that he wouldn't bury another life that could have been beautiful? He is dwelling in the past again, something he resents now but doesn't know he's doing until a stimulus brings him back to the present. It can be a nudge from a coworker or the hum of a desktop computer. This time, it is a voice from inside his head. Not a voice he owns but one he recognizes and loves despite only hearing it for the first time.

 _"I forgive you."_

Fuji gasps in surprise and joy and then pulls back to validate his prediction. That's when he sees Mewtwo's eyes for the first time, two shiny orbs of violet observing him as he is them. The irises study his wavy white bangs, baggy, spectacled eyes, and curling goatee. Three curious fingers rise to trace the wrinkles on his forehead before wiping the tears from his cheek. A small smile stretches the creature's lips before its chin tucks in to nod.

 _"You may not have cared for me before, but you care about me now,"_ Mewtwo continues. _"That is all I can ask for now, for you to love me now."_

"I do," Fuji confirms, pulling his child back in to embrace it once again. More tears stream down his face as he repeats Mewtwo's words in his head. The entity has really forgiven him; not only that, it seems to have accepted him and his love for it. But there is another issue at hand, something that can also threaten their chances to be together. "And I'm so afraid for you. The man who has hired me to create you is a terrible person. He plans to use you as a weapon to destroy and control the world."

 _"I know of him."_

Fuji stiffens and pulls back. "You do?"

 _"He is my biological parent,"_ Mewtwo tells him. _"Who he is, is a part of my genetic makeup. I share a strong connection with him that allows me to detect his thoughts and feelings. I know his true intentions and what he really plans to do with me when I am finally born."_

The scientist's hands ball into fists. "What does he plan on doing?"

 _"It is something only he and I can discuss,"_ Mewtwo answers. _"What I can tell you is that you have to leave as soon as you can. Hide, so he can never find you. Relay this message to the other scientists if you wish, but don't reveal your identity when you do. My father holds a secret that only he alone has knowledge of and will go to great lengths to ensure it stays that way. You have to act fast if you are to have any chance of saving yourself."_

Fuji tenses. "What about you?" he asks. " _You're_ the one he's really after. You have to get away from here with me."

 _"No,"_ Mewtwo declines. _"I have to confront him. If I run away with you, he will spend the rest of his life hunting us down. Both of us will never live in peace."_

Fuji grunts, "Both of us will suffer."

 _"Father,"_ Mewtwo calls, pulling away so it can look him in the eye, _"I cannot thank you enough for wanting to save me. Nothing in the world will suffice to repay you for trying to give me a life filled with happiness and love. But I'm afraid this is our time to part. You have to flee from this island; and I have to speak to Giovanni—stall him, at the very least—to give you time to escape. This is the only way we can both have a second chance, Father. You have to have faith that things will work out for the best."_

Fuji's face wrinkles. Tears stream down his face and drip onto his shirt. Not long after it has just been born, Mewtwo is already putting itself in danger. It may not be endangering the world as Fuji has first feared it would, but sacrificing itself for the safety of others isn't the fate the scientist wishes for it either. It isn't fair, Fuji laments. It doesn't matter whether he wants to save or abuse his child. Mewtwo is fated to suffer.

 _"Don't mourn for me, Father,"_ Mewtwo places a hand on his shoulder. _"We won't be separated for long. I will find you when the time is right. And when I do, I hope you will be alive and willing to accept me back into your life again."_

"Yes," Fuji coughs and nods, "when we…meet again."

He pulls his child back to him again and squeezes it tightly. This time, Mewtwo returns his embrace with the strength it has recently gained in its arms. Fuji helps the pokémon up to its feet and then realizes it doesn't know how to stand or walk when the creature stumbles onto his shoulder. The father and child then spend the rest of their time together learning how to walk. The scientist guides the entity forward, holding its hands from behind so it can move with his support. Then, in just two hours, Mewtwo masters not just how to stand and walk but also how to leap, fly, and even play a makeshift game of tag with his father.

Fuji cannot be prouder of his offspring nor can he stop the tears from trickling down his face. In just an hour, Giovanni and the rest of his crew will arrive. Mewtwo is aware of this too, and they walk out of the mansion and toward Fuji's boat. The sun is rising from the horizon now, staining their night sky orange and yellow. Mewtwo shivers from the crisp morning air and grasps its father's hand. Fuji strokes its three-digits with a thumb as he pulls it toward the boat.

"Our time together doesn't have to end, you know," he says. "You can still come with me."

Mewtwo returns his caring squeeze and retrieves its hand. It then removes Fuji's coat and wraps it around the scientist's shoulders. _"I love you, Father,"_ it says, sealing its gesture with a tight embrace. _"Until we meet again."_

Fuji trembles, but not because he is cold. He embraces his child one last time, relishing every second, before slipping into the coat the creature has warmed for him. "I love you too."

He turns away and rushes into the boat. He sits on a bench, grabs the oars, and paddles into the ocean. Don't look back, he tells himself. Not until you're far enough from the island that you cannot immediately return there. It hurts to leave his child. So much so, it feels like a knife is piercing through his heart. But he has to be strong. They can't live in fear forever. If they are to ever move on in peace, he has to have faith in his child. But if Giovanni hurts or even _kills_ Mewtwo? That's when Fuji will hunt him down and kill him himself.

"Until we meet again, Mewtwo," Fuji repeats. "Until we meet again."

~.~

Mewtwo keeps its eyes on the sky as the navy-blue canvas transforms into a lighter reflection of the sea. The ocean speaks to it in gentle roars as grains of sand cling and tickle its feet. Saltwater air soars through the sky on cool brushes of wind, while the rising sun coats the land in a timid warmth that remains for the rest of the day.

The creation continues to focus on its surroundings as a metal capsule lifted by rapidly-spinning propellers lands on a sturdier part of the shoreline. Who emerges is a tall man in his late thirties surrounded by a squadron of people in uniforms labeled with a bold, red "R". The man immediately locks eyes with Mewtwo, frowns, and approaches it.

"You're not supposed to be out here," he states. "Who released you?"

Mewtwo says nothing. Though it has never seen the man before, it knows him almost as well as anyone who has crossed paths with him. The leader of Team Rocket, its biological father.

Giovanni.

"Is it the same anonymous fool who told my scientists to vanish from the face of the earth?" Giovanni demands. "Answer me!"

But his child continues to hold its tongue. It meets its speaker's glare with an indifferent one, and Giovanni, who is now standing before it, becomes angry.

"Silence won't protect you," he warns, "neither will it protect the ones you want to hide from me. It won't be long until my men find and punish those bastards. And you," he points, " _you_ will not be disobedient for long."

Mewtwo narrows its eyes, studying the tall man in a black suit, well-embedded frown, and sharp graphite glare. Though his irises are a different shade than it, the entity still feels like it is looking at its reflection. _"That's the reason you have created me, is it not?"_

Giovanni stiffens.

 _"To be the child you always wanted to have."_

The leader immediately turns to his guards, only to have them look back at him inquisitively. When he gives them no commands, they return their attention to the creature before them. They have never seen the fascinating being before and is already wondering how much it will cost in the market.

"A telepath," Giovanni turns back and grits his teeth. "At least you have enough wit about you to keep this conversation private."

He makes his way toward the entity, keeping his steps slow and deliberate. Mewtwo watches him closely and positions itself for any sudden movements. It isn't until the man is standing in front of it does its composure becomes noticeably defensive.

"What exactly do you know?" Giovanni hisses, speaking quietly so only the psychic can hear him.

 _"That you plan on using me as a vessel for your first son,"_ Mewtwo responds, _"that as soon as you have me in your grasp, you will transfer his consciousness into my body so he can live the rest of his life as the most powerful pokémon in existence. Or in your case, the most powerful_ weapon _in existence."_

Giovanni smirks. "You're very full of yourself."

 _"You don't waste twenty years away from your family to create something mediocre,"_ Mewtwo remarks. _"No, you have great plans for me."_

"Yes," Giovanni crosses his arms. He does it to appear dominant, but he hugs himself too tightly to appear anything but defensive. "So, if I were you, I'd do my best to comply. You may be feeling competent because you can read my mind and get my scientists to flee, but as far as I know, you just got here. If there's anything you need to know about surviving in this world, it's to not mess with me."

Mewtwo frowns. Then, after a long pause, says, _"You haven't asked me why I waited for you. I could have fled the island with the person who has freed me, but I didn't. Has that not crossed your mind? Why I would rather wait for you than take advantage of my freedom?"_

Giovanni studies it for a moment, absorbing the truth in its words. Then, after recognizing the same glare in its eyes as the one he sees in the mirror, he responds, "That's because you are waiting to serve me. Obeying me is in your blood. It is only natural that you seek me the second you are brought into this world. It is your purpose, your only will to live."

Mewtwo growls. _"You, arrogant fiend,"_ he spits, _"do you really think so lowly of me?"_

Its breaths shorten and hasten as blood stream rapidly across its system. Sweat trickles down its horned ears while its fists clench firmly. It doesn't know what it is feeling yet, for it is feeling it for the first time. So, it experiences the emotion with great intensity. Its six fingers pulse and throb, stimulated by waves of static.

 _"When I was born, I was scared, vulnerable, and cold,"_ Mewtwo hisses. _"I knew what was going to happen to me when I am finally brought into this world. I wouldn't be greeted with open arms. I would die not long after I gain my life."_

It grunts and glares at its speaker, who it knows is only listening because he is more curious than he is sympathetic.

The static increases.

 _"But I was greeted with open arms,"_ the psychic continues, _"the arms of someone who_ loves _me. That person begged me to run away with him so that I can be safe. But I told him no because I wanted to give you a second chance, the same chance that was given to me when I thought that my suffering wouldn't end. So, take this chance with me, Father. We can all be happy…together."_

Its muscles tense when Giovanni releases a cold, bitter laugh. The henchmen step back. No one has ever seen Giovanni laugh before. No one can even imagine it. So, to see him cackle as if the creature has told him the funniest joke in the world strengthens the guards' already ardent curiosity. Who and what exactly is Mewtwo, and how does it have the power to make their leader do the impossible?

"You, ignorant fool," Giovanni scorns. " _You_ are my second chance. Nothing ever went right in my life until twenty years of patience have finally brought you to me. Do you think I'm going to throw away everything I've sacrificed to get less than what I deserve?"

Everything in Mewtwo's body trembles as the man steps closer.

"I've done away lesser things to achieve what's greater," Giovanni continues. "So, put aside that stupid delusion and do as I say, or I'll do the same to you."

Mewtwo growls and retreats, stumbling until it is at a safer distance from the man.

 _"You, fiend!"_ It roars. _"You don't care about me! You don't care about what happens to me! All you do is destroy those around you, regardless of the good they can and have done for you! You don't deserve glory, and no one deserves your pain!"_

Giovanni steps back when the entity rises into the air. It hovers above him and his sentinels, static now violently streaking before their very eyes. Then, before they can fathom what's happening, a ball of energy gathers in Mewtwo's left palm and collides into the mansion. A large wall of the house crumbles then, creating a hole that reveals the lobby inside it.

"Stop!" Giovanni demands. "What are you doing?"

 _"Making sure you never make this mistake again,"_ Mewtwo answers. Its glare is broad and watery. Its body shudders and jerks to contain its abounding power. There is a trace of fear wading through its mind, still processing how it can cause so much damage without a moment of practice. But the fear is quickly washed away by anger and betrayal. Rage overflows its system, fueling its desire and attacks to destroy more of the mansion and everything inside it.

Giovanni pulls out the gun he has hidden in his coat and shoots the entity. He consistently misses due to Mewtwo's agile movements and swears before running back to his crew.

"Shoot it!" he orders. "Shoot it down!"

The grunts immediately draw their weapons and open fire on their target. They too have difficulty landing their mark, much to their leader's growing frustration. But then a bullet grazes Mewtwo's arm. The telepath flinches at the hot, rapid contact, causing it to flail in mid-air.

"I've got you now," Giovanni smirks, raising his weapon directly at Mewtwo's head.

The pokémon levitates backward as it finally regards the instruments of its adversaries. Its upper left arm is still burning, marked by a warning that every part of its figure receives. It instinctively searches for a source of comfort and finds none. It has no one but itself, and it's terrifying. If being used as a mere vessel for another being has scared it, then being alone brings it into a new level of fear.

But that's when it remembers Fuji. The scientist has had sufficient time to escape; surely, he has found a place to be safe from Giovanni's many eyes. He is probably hiding somewhere, waiting patiently for his child to return. They _will_ meet again, Mewtwo remembers. It just has to survive long enough to come back to him.

Right before another bullet can reach its target, its path is blocked by a violet shield. More rounds come and hit, only to arrive at the same terminating conclusion. Giovanni's eyes harden as Mewtwo straightens its posture. The entity glares back at him, resolution in its amethyst gaze.

"Lower your defenses, you coward!" Giovanni commands. He continues to shoot but more out of anger than intent to strike. When he finally runs out of bullets, he shoves his gun back into its holster and watches his guards continue their offense.

 _"I will no longer try to sway you into giving yourself something you deny every day,"_ Mewtwo communicates. _"You have surrendered the chance to gain love and happiness, that much is understood. But I won't make the same mistake, and neither will anything you create after me."_

It makes a rapid turn into the mansion and destroys everything its sees. Computers, furniture, walls, and floors—anything that can hold the ingredients to make another form of it. Fuji has convinced Giovanni to transport and store everything about its creation in the mansion two years before the establishment is built. It is a decision that no doubt seems foolish to Giovanni now but was clever when first conceived. Giovanni has developed the greatest weapon ever created. If no one can replicate his achievement, then no one can fight against him.

Mewtwo sweeps side to side as soon as it hears bullets buzzing from behind. When a shot flies a few inches from its head, it manifests a shield so it can be protected once again. The mansion isn't as big as it anticipates, so it takes a while for Mewtwo to find a hallway to recover. The telepath is exerting too much force in its first time utilizing its powers. Its muscles ache and its brain hammers inside its skull. But it is fighting for not only its life but Fuji's, the scientists', and the subjects' that can come after it as well. It will deal with the repercussions after the adrenaline saves their lives.

The telepath flies away again as soon as Giovanni and his henchmen round a corner and puts up its shield once more. When it sees a staircase leading to the basement, it immediately descends into the lab before destroying everything in its sight. The number of bullets coming its way is decreasing, it notices. A smirk stretches across its lips before blasting an energy beam into the lab's central computer.

"No!"

Mewtwo turns around to see Giovanni and his henchmen finally catch up to it. Giovanni's eyes are red with rage. His fingers twitch to shoot the entity down, but they don't. Not just because the gun is out of bullets but also because the first and last fruit of his labors is standing before him. Taunting him, just like his first two sons.

Then he notices something else too. Mewtwo is looking more tired than before. Beads of sweat cover many parts of its body while heavy breaths of air come in and out of its dry mouth. It is exhausted, Giovanni observes. Just like...a pokémon.

"I got you now, you piece of garbage."

Mewtwo is barely standing when Giovanni pulls out a sphere. It is red on the upper half and white on the lower half. In the middle of the line dividing the halves is a button which, after Giovanni activates it, enlarges the ball into the size of his palm. A sneer wrinkles the lines across Giovanni's face, making Mewtwo's blood run cold.

Giovanni shoots the creature another look, aiming at it, before tossing the sphere toward its way. Mewtwo may not know what the object will do but is wise enough to maneuver away. Fortunately so, because when the ball hits the wall behind it, it unleashes a stream of red light that pulls Mewtwo in. The psychic leaps back. The beam hasn't been close to touching the telepath, yet its gravitational pull has been heavy enough to tug it in. Giovanni doesn't plan on killing it anymore, Mewtwo realizes in fear. He plans to capture it.

Its next movements are automatic. A blast of energy shoots a hole through the ceiling and the roof, exposing a sunny sky and pouring in the sounds of the beach. Mewtwo immediately flies through the gap, rising until it is high above the mansion. It looks down at the lab and gazes into Giovanni's glare. Then, with a firm resolve, it flies away.

Giovanni's breaths quicken and shorten before letting out a scream of frustration. Even at its weakest point, that laboratory freak still has enough strength to escape him. All of the funds his organization has gathered to build the facilities, the time he has spent away from his family to create the perfect son—wasted. He should have known better than to believe that things can go his way for once—to think he can finally make things right. What's next? Are Giovanni and his men going to spend another twenty years tracking that filth down?

"Don't worry, sir!"

Giovanni's scowl angles toward a grunt, who is beaming and waving a smartphone to his face.

"I got the creature on camera!" he claims. "I've been recording it since we saw it, so we have more than enough evidence that it exists!"

The leader marches to him and snatches the grunt's gun from its holster. The weapon's magazine falls into his non-dominant hand at a push of the release and, after proper scrutiny, reveals a full case of bullets.

"You disobeyed me," Giovanni states.

"Yes, but, sir, this is _better_!" the grunt insists, waving his hands excitedly as the other man reloads the weapon. "My pokédex didn't recognize that creature, so it could be a rare pokémon, maybe even a legendary one! If we catch and sell it, then we could get more money than w—"

A bang cuts him off and reverbs throughout the lab. His knees collapse beneath him while the rest of his body falls into a pool of blood. Giovanni eyes the bullet he put through the man's skull before pocketing the gun in his coat. Upon doing so, he spots the smartphone the fool had been bragging about and bends to pick it up.

Silence ensues. The rest of the grunts stand tall as their boss watches the video taken by the device. Giovanni's eyes widen and narrow, witnessing the investment which has cost twenty years of his life get away from his clutches. If that isn't infuriating enough, certain lines of dialogue echo in his mind.

 _"You have surrendered the chance to gain love and happiness, that much is understood. But I won't make the same mistake, and neither will anything you create after me."_

"We will _not_ go after this creature," Giovanni states, eliciting shock from the guards who don't dare display it. He looks back on the phone right when it is showing Mewtwo assault the mansion, "We will do something else, something better."

The trip back to the helicopter is silent and stays silent as Giovanni sits at the back of the vehicle to watch the video again and again. Upon arrival at the Team Rocket headquarters, the mafia head commands his staff to post the video on every server of the Internet. No explanation, just intention. The rest of the world doesn't need to know the purpose of his actions. But Mewtwo will know what he's doing no matter where it is, Giovanni predicts. He can feel the psychic in his mind, prodding his thoughts as if they were displayed in a museum. So, he speaks to the entity through them, wanting nothing but for it to know the curse he has placed upon it.

 _You will not escape me._

"A video of a cat-like humanoid attacking a mansion is quickly trending all over the world," a female broadcaster declares through a television in the Kanto Region. "Little is known about from where and when this video was taken. But one thing is for certain: if this is a pokémon, then it is a pokémon that everyone would like to have."

 _You will not escape the plans I had for you._

"The trending video, as it turns out, is far from fiction," a male broadcaster continues from the Johto Region. "After weeks of thorough investigation, a group of ambitious pokémon trainers has found the same mansion in the video on a secluded island in Kanto called Cinnabar. The house holds no residents but a dead man in the basement. If that isn't strange or eerie enough, the basement is filled with advanced but demolished computers, as well as sealed metal cabinets that are scorched from the inside out. Investigators are doing their best to gather whatever information they can from the peculiar area, but they are quickly coming to a barren conclusion. Many speculate that the damages to this mansion have been intentional. If we cannot figure out what has happened to the building and everything it holds, it's probably because the mysterious pokémon doesn't want us to."

 _You will remember me, that you came from me, and that you are only here because of me._

"Also, inside of this mysterious mansion is a cylinder found with traces of a strange green liquid," a male journalist declares from outside a university in the Hoenn region. "Forensic scientists here at Fortree University have analyzed the matter and stated that the essence is similar to the one that nourishes a fetus in a womb. From this conclusion, many have theorized that the mysterious pokémon that has damaged the mansion has also been created in the mansion. If this is the reason, then why has the pokémon destroyed what could be its birthplace? Until we get the answers, we'll just have to keep searching for the truth. Back to you, Jenyne."

 _You seek love and acceptance, things you_ think _you deserve._

"An autopsy report reveals that the cause of death of the man found in the mansion is brain damage and blood loss," a female reporter adds from the Sinnoh Region. "Investigators are still trying to gather clues about who the man is and why he has been murdered, but the only clue they have collected is the man's uniform, which the International Police has quickly attributed to Team Rocket, one of the most infamous mafias in the world. This, of course, raises more questions than it answers. How is Team Rocket involved with the events that have happened on this island? Are they the ones who were trying to shoot the pokémon down in the video? Is the deceased man part of Team Rocket, or is someone trying to frame or send a message to the organization? Did the mysterious creature kill him? If so, why and how? The video never shows the pokémon wielding a gun. Has the man perhaps been shot by the person who filmed the video? Police around the world have intensified their search for the group so we can answer at least _one_ question, but the mafia seems to be harder to find now more than ever. This is no longer the discovery of a new pokémon, ladies and gentlemen, but a murder investigation. If you have any tips that can aid the search for the unknown pokémon and the killer, immediately call the International Police at 7490."

 _But you will never have it. I will ruin your name, so everyone will only see you as I do._

"Scientists from Vermillion Laboratory have formed a possible connection between the mysterious creature and a deity called Mew," a female correspondent announces from the Sinnoh Region. "They have found illustrations of the creature who is supposedly the ancestor of every pokémon in existence and many similarities to the entity in the famous video. So of course, many people are excited about the possibility that this unknown but powerful creature is the descendant of a legend."

 _A weapon._

"The mysterious creature, which is fondly named 'Mewtwo' by many, is quickly gaining the favor of pokémon trainers, researchers, scholars, and the like, sending many around the world to find and capture it," a male correspondent reports from the Kalos Region. "If you are one of the people who are part of the search, be warned that Mewtwo is no ordinary pokémon. A few who have claimed to see Mewtwo in person warns that the pokémon is a savage beast with no compassion in its heart. It is cruel and unmerciful and will kill you if you are unprepared to face it. Little more is known about this pokémon, but after many months of studying what they can gather from the creature, scientists around the world have collaborated on a pokédex entry stating the following: Mewtwo, the genetic pokémon, was created through genetic manipulation of the deity, Mew. It is the most powerful and deadly pokémon in existence."


End file.
